


Phoenix Rising

by WispsOfSilver



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Alternate Hogwarts House Sorting, Chaos Harry Potter, Creature Draco Malfoy, Creature Fred Weasley, Creature George Weasley, Creature Harry Potter, Creature Hermione Granger, Creature Inheritance, Dark Draco Malfoy, Dark Fred Weasley & George Weasley, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Hermione Granger, Dark Luna Lovegood, Dark Neville Longbottom, Dark Sirius Black, Dark Tom Riddle, Evil Albus Dumbledore, F/F, F/M, Ginny Weasley Bashing, Harry Potter is Heir of Merlin, Heir of Hogwarts Founders Harry Potter, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Male Hermione Granger, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Master of Death Harry Potter, Molly Weasley Bashing, Multi, Overpowered Harry Potter, Past Child Abuse, Ron Weasley Bashing, Sane Tom Riddle, Seer Luna Lovegood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:54:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26892523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WispsOfSilver/pseuds/WispsOfSilver
Summary: When Harry Potter falls into The Veil to keep his godfather safe, one thing became prevalent in his memories. Albus Dumbledore was the sole reason for all of Harry's problems, the master manipulator behind all the scenes that lead him to that moment. His sworn vengeance is heard by Death and Chaos and together they reverse time giving Harry the ability to change it all and bring the end of Albus Dumbledore once and for all. The Harry who rises from the flames is not the sweet, innocent boy who wishes no harm on others. Instead it is a dark, vicious Harry who will do everything in his power to right the wrongs done to him and protect those he cares about. Dark doesn't exactly mean evil, just as light doesn't exactly mean good. This is something Harry will make the world remember for years to come.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood/Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 347
Kudos: 1064





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry dies, reviews all of his memories, and is sent back in time to change his fate. 
> 
> Mentions of child abuse, mental torture via spell

Everything was in chaos. A chaotic mess of spells flying every which direction. Absolutely nobody in the Department of Mysteries was safe in the mayhem as good and evil collided, as Light and Dark met in battle. The messy brown haired, green eyed boy in the middle of all the mire was scared. Harry Potter was absolutely terrified as he shouted out spell after spell at the Dark Wizards who had cornered him and his friends. However, strangely enough, the fear that filled every single atom that made up Harry’s body was not fear for his safety, but the safety of his friends. Yes, Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was scared to death, for his friends who He had led to the Department of Mysteries because he had seen a vision of Voldemort torturing his godfather for information.

Now, Harry knew that the vision was a fake. It was a sham, a hoax that led him to collect the prophecy that concerned him and Voldemort just so the insane man who murdered his parents in cold blood could get his hands on the prophecy that could lead to his downfall. It was all Harry’s fault that they were here, facing off with Death Eaters who could easily kill all of them. Although with the Order of the Phoenix members having arrived to provide backup for the teens, he was still terrified that one of his friends would die because he believed a made-up illusion. He was still terrified that someone would die and it would be all his fault. Harry had this god-awful feeling in the pit of his stomach that wouldn’t go away. Something was going to go wrong. He just didn’t know where.

Together, side by side, Harry fought against the Death Eaters with Sirius Black, his godfather. Padfoot had refused to leave his side once he arrived and while it brought some relief to him that he hadn’t been tortured, him being in this mess killed it instantly. Sirius and Harry took turns fighting. One would defend, the other would shoot off a spell, and then they’d switch to throw off their enemies. Back and forth they went. Harry’s heart was pounding so loudly in his chest. It was all he could really hear. Everything else sounded like it was being filtered through water. He was aware of everything going on. Acutely aware that the Death Eaters were mostly focused on him. That him and Sirius were being backed towards the Veil in the middle of the room. Every single nerve in his body was on edge as he looked for the next Death Eater to send a curse or hex at, but his eyes instead fell on Bellatrix and his heart dropped to his stomach. 

Bellatrix was a madwoman. She was practically Voldemort’s second in command in his army. His most loyal follower who would do anything and everything to please him. The ever insane aunt of Draco Malfoy, the torturer of Neville Longbottom’s parents, was staring directly at Sirius with a wicked, evil gleam in her eyes. Over the roaring pressure in Harry’s ears he couldn’t hear the spell that she yelled out, her wand pointed directly at her disowned cousin, but it was bright emerald green, the same color of his eyes. Harry mentally flashed back to the only thing he could remember of his parents. The flash of that green light, the cackling laughter of Voldemort’s voice. 

_ The Killing Curse _ , Harry’s mind shouted at him. The Killing Curse was heading directly for Sirius Black and it was all his fault. That was all he could think. The words repeated in his mind like a broken record as everything around him moved in slow motion. Everything that was happening, it was all Harry’s fault. The pain of his friends, the pain of the people he swore to protect, it was all his fault. He had brought them here. He brought all of them here. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, Light’s Golden Boy, led them all to their deaths.

Then the world hit play again. Before Harry’s mind could catch up, his body moved in reaction to the ever approaching death curse. His hands pushed Sirius off the ledge to safety and a small smile formed on his face. “HARRY NO!” The yell that came from Sirius was heartbreaking, like his godfather had just watched his entire reason for living crumble right before his eyes, but it was nothing more than a whisper on the wind to Harry’s ears as he dodged the killing curse by a single hair with reflexes he didn’t even know he possessed. 

However, it was him dodging instant death that led to his demise. There wasn’t even a moment to process that he had managed to move out of the path of the spell as Harry tripped and fell backwards into The Veil behind him. Even as the icy-cold wind pulled him inside, dragging him away from the world of the living, the faint smile on his face never left. He had saved the one person in the world that he was perfectly fine with dying for. After everything that Sirius had gone through, he deserved to live. 

~~~

Harry…. Harry didn’t know what death was supposed to feel like. He had seen it before, yes, but it was very different watching something horrifying happen than it was to have it happen to you. Harry had watched his mother die in front of him when he was one years old, nothing more than a baby. He had seen Cedric Diggory die by the hands of Peter Pettigrew. Both times it was death by Killing Curse. It was quick, effective, and seemingly painless. Harry wasn’t granted painless though. He wasn’t sure if it was payback for dodging death before falling into The Veil or if it was just how The Veil took souls. All he knew was that the coldness that welcomed to the world of death in The Veil was sharp and piercing. It cut through him with the fury of ten thousand sharp blades stabbing into every single piece of his flesh. Like hundreds of thousands of needles being injected into him all at once. It felt like the coldest of fire coursed through his veins leaving no nerve untouched. The feeling was excruciating but no matter how much Harry tried to scream out, not a single word or sound left his still smiling lips. 

He was floating, suspended in time, being punished for not being able to protect his friends. For not being able to save them from what would happen when Voldemort found out about his death and eventually managed to take over the world.  _ If I am being punished so be it _ , Harry thought. He deserved this pain, if not more for everything he didn’t manage to do in the world before his death. As he stared into the grey world of death around him, Harry accepted it as his fate. Accepting the pain as he closed his eyes. 

Time in Death’s realm was strange. It moved slow but fast. Harry had no idea if it had been hundreds of years feeling this icy-flame since he closed his eyes, or just merely a single second. The darkness behind his eyelids shifted. Soon images began to play in his mind where he was nothing more than a phantom, a silent watcher as his entire life played before him.  _ So your life flashing before death really is a thing,  _ Harry mentally laughed. With bitterness Harry watched his life play before him, every horrible thing he went through until the very moment of his death.

~

The first images were welcoming, much different than what he knew. He watched his mother hold him the moment after his birth. He really did have his mother’s eyes and those eyes stared at him as if he had hung the moon. She cooed over him, promising him that he would be loved. His father grinned proudly next to his mother and baby him.  _ “He’s absolutely perfect, Lily! Look at him.”  _ It didn’t seem like anything could take the smiles off his parents face. The two, Lily and James Potter, his parents, exuded love towards him… Towards Harry? Someone who lived and breathed had actually at one point in time loved him? Harry couldn’t believe it. He wanted to turn away. His chest hurt so much. It felt like there was a giant weight sitting on his chest making it so hard to breath, even though he was dead and didn’t need to breath. 

Harry didn’t want to watch but he was unable to look away as he watched his parents take care of baby him with a love he never knew existed. A love he thought was nothing more than a fairy tale made up in books to make people feel better about their sad miserable lives. A love he never even knew he got. He watched as Sirius met him for the first time. The look of awe on a much younger Sirius, the man he thought of as a father, the first time he held him.  _ “Look at you Harry. Got eyes just like your mother. Your dad owes me ten galleons for that one. Don’t you worry, pup, I will protect you for everything. Nothing will ever harm you.”  _ Sirius swore the moment baby Harry opened his eyes and held tightly onto his thumb. Those words tore Harry up inside more than he ever thought possible because when Harry had needed Sirius the most, he was in Azkaban wrongly imprisoned. 

Then the happiness changed. Dumbledore came and told his parents that Voldemort wanted Harry dead because of a prophecy but he refused to tell his parents what the prophecy was. Dumbledore told them they needed to hide and because it came out of his mouth, they did so. Harry watched Dumbledore encourage his parents to choose, not Sirius, but Peter Pettigrew, the fucking traitor, as their secret keeper. Harry watched his parents die to keep him alive. He watched Sirius be imperiused by Dumbledore, though he hadn't seen him do it just heard his voice say the spell, and forced to give Harry to Hagrid, forced to go after Peter, and Harry knew that was how Sirius ended up in Azkaban. 

Slowly Harry began to put things together, piece by piece as if he was putting together a puzzle. By making Sirius go away, Dumbledore got full control of Harry. He could do whatever he wanted with him and nobody would say anything against it because Albus Dumbledore was a good wizard, he was the pillar of the Light Side, he always knew best. Harry watched as he was left on the steps of the Dursley’s on a cold October Night with nothing more than a thin blanket to keep him warm and a letter baby Harry clenched like it was his life line. 

Petunia screamed when she saw him on the front steps. Her eyes widened as she picked the baby up and grabbed the letter. Harry knew that she knew who he was. He didn’t know how but the way she was crying, it was like she knew his mother was dead. He wasn’t at all surprised when she just laid him on the floor of the living room as she read the letter, ignoring his cries. A look full of hatred slowly formed on her face as she read the letter before glaring at baby Harry.  _ “It’s all your fault! If you were never born my sister would still be alive!”  _ She screeched. 

The memory faded to the next. Harry unwillingly watched as his younger self was beaten, abused, starved, locked away in a tiny cupboard for days on end, and otherwise neglected under the watchful eyes that Dumbledore had placed around him without his knowledge. He recognized familiar faces watching him. He was disgusted to see Molly Weasley, the woman once thought of as a mother, watched him on several occasions getting abused but she didn’t do a single thing about it. Neither did other members of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry watched the threads that Dumbledore weaved become his life until all Harry was, was a love-starved child who was begging for someone to be nice to him. He felt so disgusted watching his younger self which he now knew was nothing more than a puppet for Dumbledore to use as he went to Hogwarts, idolizing the grandfatherly wizard all the while he was blinded to what Dumbledore had been plotting. Dumbledore became a grandfather figure in his life, all while doing everything he could to make sure Harry was miserable so he would keep being the perfect little puppet willing to die for people who didn’t even deserve life. 

There were even memories that Harry didn’t remember. A memory where he overheard Ron and Dumbledore talking back in his first year. Dumbledore told Ron that he had to make sure Harry went after the Sorcerer’s stone because if he didn’t, the Weasley family would never see the promised money. Ron readily agreed to make sure of it.  _ “We will go after the stone, Headmaster. Harry is dumber than a bag of bricks but he does have some semblance of care about this world. It is easy to exploit.”  _ Ron Weasley had never been his friend. Not a true one and it wasn’t all that hard to believe considering how he had turned on Harry back in their Fourth year. Still, it hurt immensely. To know that his best friend wasn’t his friend at all and was really a spy for Dumbledore, someone Harry now knew was evil. And he was evil. That much Harry was certain about. At least Voldemort didn’t lie about who or what he was. He had never lied a single time to Harry but all Dumbledore did was lie. Lie and avoid him. He was absolutely disgusted by the so-called Saintly Wizard. Especially in the memory, a memory that was obviously erased just like the one where he overheard the Dumbledore Ron conversation, Dumbledore promised Ginny Weasley that he would make sure Harry married her before he fought Voldemort and died for doing so. Harry was disgusted. He had seen Ginny as nothing but a little sister before but now he only saw her as a greedy, jealous, money hungry slut. Why else was she always prancing around him with a new boy toy practically every other week unless it was to get him jealous because Dumbledore promised him to her?

Finally the memories ended. Harry wasn’t sure what he was supposed to feel. He was pissed though. Absolutely, irreversibly enraged. He wanted them to pay. Harry wanted Dumbledore to pay.  _ How dare he? Who did Albus Dumbledore think he was playing God with other people’s lives? Why? For what? For the Greater-Fucking-Good? What Greater Good was there if it meant that a child had to suffer to bring it about? What Greater Good could possibly come from innocent people giving up their lives for a pompous, egotistical, megalomaniac who only wants everyone to see him as the greatest wizard ever? There was never any Greater Good. He never cared about me or anyone else. All he ever cared about was his image! God, I am such a fucking idiot. I couldn’t see past anything!  _ Harry raged to himself. If Harry could move he would be hitting himself for being so stupid. 

A part of Harry didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want to believe that this entire time, Dumbledore was the one who was evil but the facts were clear as day in his memories. Sure, Voldemort was still evil, and he killed his parents, but at least Voldemort didn’t use him as nothing but a puppet while acting like he gave a single fuck about him. Voldemort at least told him straight up that he wanted Harry to either join him or die. Voldemort had even tried to warn Harry about Dumbledore’s evil side, but Harry was already too brainwashed to listen. If only he hadn’t been too blind to it in the past. However, as they say hindsight is twenty twenty. Harry only wished there was something he could do. He wanted to be able to protect his friends. Besides Ron and Ginny, none of the others seemed like they were in on Dumbledore’s plans or knew anything about how manipulative Dumbledore was. He wanted to be able to protect them. He wanted to save them from the lives they were all forced to live by the manipulative hands of Albus Dumbledore. He wanted to fix the obviously broken Wixen World and rebuild it into something better. More than anything though… Harry wanted to live. He wanted to tear everything Albus Dumbledore had built up brick by fucking brick until it was all in shambles. Tear it all down until everyone saw just how pathetic the so-called Greatest Wizard of their time really was. He wanted to pull the wool off of the eyes of the Wixen World and expose Dumbledore for what he truly was, a wolf in sheep's clothing who only cares about himself, someone much worse than Voldemort. And when everything was all said and done, Harry wanted vengeance, the sweet justice of Dumbledore’s blood on his hands. The dark voice that was always in the back of Harry’s mind wanted out. The other him he desperately kept under lock and key wanted to rage against everything and for the first time, Harry didn’t want to keep it down. He wanted to live so he could let the beast free.

“At what cost, Young Master?” A voice called out. Harry’s head tilted to the side in confusion. This voice speaking to him was neither male, nor female. It was deep and lulling, high and lyrical, quiet and smokey, sweet and innocent. It was as if multiple voices had been wrapped in one. Harry slowly opened his eyes and stared into the grey void that was Death’s Realm. There were two figures before him. One was covered in a cloak of darkness but the power that emanated from them was intense. It’s power was of death and decay, but also peace that death brought to those who were in so much pain. Peace that Harry felt seeing them. The other figure was a dark, shadowy mist figure. The power that exuded from him was ten times more powerful than the cloaked one. It’s power was a mystery but not. It was like everything wrapped up in one. The beginning and end of everything. Mysterious, mischievous, sort of the aura that Fred and George gave off. Harry couldn’t really wrap his head around it but two names popped in his mind.  _ Death and Chaos.  _ “At what cost do you wish your vengeance?” 

“Any.” Harry answered immediately. There was not even a single pause from when the question was asked to Harry speaking his answer. The conviction and finality in his tone made the two powerful beings before him pause for a moment. 

“Even if it means the gates of heaven will not open for you? Even if it means you have the fate of the entire world on your shoulders? Even if you end up going down a dark, miserable lonely path that leaves all you ever loved and cared for in ruins?” The second voice, the one from the shadow figure, was deep. The power that the being spoke with was overwhelming, intoxicating, but Harry just barely managed to cling to his senses. He glared at the being with everything he had in him. 

“I would never forsake them.” Harry snarled. Death and Chaos chuckled. 

“We shall see, Young Master. Back to the beginning then? To the day you started questioning your family’s view on magic not existing. The task you have given yourself will not be easy. There are many hurdles in your way that you must maneuver around. New things to uncover and discover. We only showed you the side of the truth that we could from your memories, both the ones you were actively aware of and the ones hidden by that Headmaster of yours. What has happened in your first timeline may change in this next one from the decisions you make and the things you change.” Death came closer, raising a bony hand to Harry’s shoulder. “Tread carefully, Young Master, for those who meddle with time can find a worse fate than Death waiting for them.” 

“The Goblins should be your first place for guidance. Show them the mark of your blessing and use the powers granted to you to gain your vengeance and bring the world to balance once more. Chaos will forever be your ally and by your side.” Chaos placed his mist hand on Harry’s other shoulder. The icy cold pain instantly turned to a burning, raging fire. A scream left his lips as his entire body was engulfed in flames before his world became black.

~~~

“Up! Get up! Now!” Harry jolted up in his bed at the voice of his Aunt and her insistent banging on the door to his cupboard. His entire body was in a cold sweat as his heart dropped to his stomach and he felt sick. Had it all been nothing but a dream? Harry’s eyes frantically flickered around the small cupboard desperate for an answer, something to show that he hadn’t dreamt all of that. It wasn’t until he looked down at his chest that he got his answer. 

Drawn on his skin right above his heart was a symbol he once heard about from Hermione. It was the Deathly Hallows symbol. A triangle with a circle inside of it and a line through it: the cloak, the stone, and the wand. Connected to the Deathly Hallows symbol was a pair of black wings that looked to be on fire, phoenix wings then. The fire was literally moving, it was magic. It hadn’t a dream at all. Magic existed and Harry had been through this before. A very small smirk formed on Harry’s face as he closed his eyes and felt the power of magic coursing through his veins. This time Harry would make sure he got it right. He would right all the wrongs done to him and fix the Wixen World, even if it is the last thing he does. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry escapes the Dursleys making sure Dumbledore will never find out about him through them again. 
> 
> Mentions of child abuse, mental torture via spell

Harry couldn’t believe it. As he sat on the small lumpy pile of blankets that was his bed in the cupboard, Harry was in total disbelief. It was obvious that everything he went through in the last four years had actually happened. Harry had died, yet here he was alive once more and in his eleven year old body to boot. Harry made a mental list of all the things he had thought he wanted to do if he came back to life, after all Chaos and Death said those were his goals now: protect his friends and keep them from being Dumbledore’s pawns, fix the Wixen World and rebuild it into something better, tear down Dumbledore’s false image to the people and let everyone see him for what he truly was, and when everything was said and done, kill Dumbledore. The dark beast in his mind growled in want and Harry was more than willing to let it out this time around. Keeping the beast locked up the last time he was alive had given him nothing but pain and sorrow. 

Harry looked over himself. He was covered in bruises and cuts from a beating he had undoubtedly received from Uncle Vernon. If he remembered correctly, it was because he had slightly burnt dinner the night before. He was still too pale, where there were no bruises, too skinny from lack of food, too small for a child of eleven. Even when he had gone to Hogwarts, it didn’t really change all that much. Sure the injuries healed while he was away but Harry had never been able to eat much because of how he grew up. He was also the smallest kid in his year, always the runt. Harry hated it. However, the most startling change was the mark right above his heart. It looked like a tattoo but when he ran a finger through it the skin was raised a bit. A shiver went down his spine from the cold, powerful feeling that rushed through his veins. The mark was simple but the meaning behind it was something… Harry wasn’t quite sure how to explain it. The symbol of the Deathly Hallows, backed up with the fact that Death had called him Young Master, was interesting. Harry wasn’t sure what to think about that. He would need to see if there were any books he could find on that. The black flaming phoenix wings that moved on his skin was the marking of Chaos. _It is the only thing that makes sense,_ Harry thought to himself. 

“Get up now, boy!” Aunt Petunia’s screeched banging on the door once again. Harry jolted slightly, remembering where he was. He mentally growled at her as he glared at the door. Anger rushed through him as he remembered what she had told his infant self. How if he hadn’t been born his mother would still be alive. Harry honestly didn’t think that was true. His parents had been members of the Order of the Phoenix. They had gone out and fought Death Eater’s time and time again. It was very likely that even if they didn’t have him, Lily and James Potter would be dead. They would have died for what they thought was a righteous cause. They hadn’t known the truth about Dumbledore, after all. They hadn’t known that the only thing that Dumbledore cared about was having people praise him. 

Harry refused to deal with the Dursley’s any longer. He wasn’t going to continue being a doormat for the Dursley family, being treated worse than a bloody house elf for absolutely nothing in return. No Harry wasn’t going to let that happen to him now that he can change it. However, he wouldn’t allow the Dursley’s to go without payback for everything they did in his previous life that mirrored everything they did in this life. They deserved it all and even more for everything they’ve done to him and Harry had the perfect spells and curses in mind to do the job. Unfortunately for them, Harry was no longer playing as the Wixen World’s Savior, the Light’s Golden Boy. He was more than ready to shed the mask he had created so he would be able to make friends at his wizarding school. He was more than ready to let the beast out to destroy everything that wanted to harm him. Dumbledore wasn’t going to be the only one who got his due if Harry had anything to say about it. 

“I am up.” Harry barely managed to keep the rage out of his voice, he barely was able to put on the mask he had come to disdain so much, sounding just as much as the meek eleven year old he used to be. Petunia huffed but walked away after screeching at him to hurry up and make breakfast. A smirk formed on his face as he grabbed a shirt from under the cot in the cupboard, moving the spiders off of his stuff with practiced ease. It wasn’t like he wasn’t one with the spiders by now. Even the poisonous spiders like the cellar spiders and woodlouse spiders that shared the small space under the stairs. They lived in harmony. Harry didn’t kill them and they didn’t bite him. Harry hummed as he looked at the spiders in his care. He was no longer going to be living here once he did to the Dursley’s what he wanted and he knew without a doubt they would kill off the spiders immediately if they saw them.

As Harry pulled on his four times too big shirt, he reached inside himself connecting with his magical core. He took in a deep breath as the magic coursed through his veins. It was stronger than it had been before his death and resurrection. Unbeknownst to everyone, Harry had been teaching himself how to use wandless magic and the dark arts too. He started at the beginning of his fifth year, after he watched Cedric die and had been unable to do anything to save him. If only he had been able to control his magic, he would have been able to save Cedric, so Harry studied and practiced, keeping it all a secret from his friends. They would have told him he was being paranoid or stupid. Well, Ron, who was most decidedly not his friend, would have. He probably would have ran to Dumbledore immediately and informed him that his pawn was acting out of turn. Hermione, and possibly the Weasley twins, would have probably been excited and want to learn with him, but would have more than likely made it impossible for Harry to learn. Hermione with all her theories and need to instruct people, even with things she didn’t know, and the twins because they were pranksters at heart and always went at things with more gusto than needed. Harry loved Hermione, Fred, and George, much more than he cared about Ron who had turned on him multiple times, but sometimes they could be too much. 

Harry had added learning the Dark Arts when he realized that Voldemort wouldn’t be fighting fairly. Sure, he invented new ways to use the light spells that Hogwarts taught in ways that were a lot more dangerous and deadly than they were meant to be, but some things needed Dark Magic if one was going to survive. If he wanted to survive to live another day, he had to learn to stoop just as low as Voldemort and his Death Eater were. He certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone about him practicing the Dark Arts, giving in slightly to the dark beast in his mind. They would have freaked out and it would have ended up terribly. With everything Harry knew now about Dumbledore, he wouldn’t have been surprised if the Headmaster would have done something to make the real him incapacitated, while a fake him ran around acting like him. 

Shaking his head, Harry waved a hand over the cupboard transfiguring the blankets into a tank big enough for all the spiders with a lid so they couldn’t slip out, not that he thought they actually would. He waved his other hand and each spider was gently placed in the tank before it shrunk. Harry grinned as he put the shrunken spider tank in his pocket gently. There was no way he would have left the only friends he had growing up, and that was what the spiders were to him, loyal friends. Once he was sure that the spiders were safely tucked away, Harry opened the door to the cupboard under the stairs, heading into the kitchen and dining room combo where Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley were already waiting. 

“Go cook breakfast, freak, and you better not burn it this time!” Vernon growled at him. Harry tilted his head as he looked at the many presents lining the dining room table. Harry remembers this day, Dudley’s eleventh birthday, the day Harry had accidentally let loose a snake upon Britain and learned that he was indeed magical, no matter what his so-called aunt and uncle said about magic not existing. Dudley was a bit red in the face. He probably just had his temper tantrum over the amount of gifts he got compared to last year. The fat ungrateful pig disgusted Harry to no end. He always wanted more, more, more, and he always ended up destroying any and everything he was given within the week he got it, only to ask for more, which he was undoubtedly given. Vernon and Petunia never said no. They never raised their voice or hit him or forced him to learn how to do anything on his own. They even forced Harry to do his homework for him because it was too much for their beloved son. His parents really had completely ruined him and set him up for nothing but failure. Harry couldn’t blame Dudley for being what he was. He was a product of bad parenting. Harry would give him a chance, but only one, to straighten his life up. 

“No. Go make breakfast yourself, you fat hog.” Harry snapped at him, drawing his magic to pool inside him, barely keeping restraint on it, or rather on himself because he wanted nothing more than to let it rush forwards and destroy the wastes of human life before him. However, Harry didn’t want them to get off easily. He wanted them to suffer, suffer like they made him suffer. Petunia and Dudley gasped in shock, staring at Harry with aghast expressions that almost made Harry burst out laughing if it wasn’t for the fact that he had his Occlumency shield up and his emotions turned off. It wasn’t that he was going to regret this, but rather Harry was afraid that he would enjoy torturing the family and go off the deep end which he couldn’t allow. Vernon's face went white before turning redder than Weasley's hair. His beady watery blue eyes stared at him with pure hatred and anger while Harry stared apathetically back at him, raising a single eyebrow to set him off. 

“What did you just say to me?” Vernon bellowed as he stood up. His face surpassed the scarlet color of the Weasley’s hair much to Harry’s dark amusement.

“Wow, old man, I didn’t think your hearing would go so soon.” Harry drew out, taking a step forward. His vibrant killing curse green eyes seemed to glow as his anger sparked up behind his Occlumency shields, remembering everything that the Dursley’s had put him through because of Petunia’s jealousy about not having magic and Dumbledore’s manipulations. “I said, Go make breakfast yourself, you fat hog.” Harry’s voice was deadly calm and full of ice. The moment Vernon made a move to come at him, Harry pushed his right hand out at him and Vernon instantly flew back against the wall being held up by the force of his magic. Another wave of his hand and the house was warded to keep any sound from being heard by the neighbors. Harry mentally chuckled knowing that since he was using wandless magic, the Ministry of Magic would be unable to detect it, even in the presence of muggles. The detection wards they had really didn’t extend throughout muggle Britain, and Harry knew that the ones they had were unable to detect wandless magic. Plus, since he was muggle raised, he never went to the ministry to get his magic core tagged. Harry could use all the magic he wanted wandlessly, and would never be able to be prosecuted for it. 

Petunia and Dudley screamed loudly as the air around Harry began to churn, his hair flying up by the magical aura around him. Their screams and Vernon’s only made him more thrilled at the power that rushed through him and the knowledge that they were at his complete mercy. Harry could do absolutely anything to them and no one could stop him. With a wave of his hand, Petunia and Dudley were forced into their chairs, unable to move as invisible ropes held tightly to the chairs. 

“I am going to tell you once, and only once.” Harry’s voice raised slightly, somehow easily cutting through the screams of the Dursley’s around him. The screams died in their throats. “I am no longer going to be your punching bag, your slave. I am done with you Dursleys. For years, you have treated me worse than house elves are treated and I have done absolutely nothing to you. Well, no more.” Harry glowered at Vernon. Oh he had just the spell in mind for him. It was one he created. While learning about wandless, nonverbal magic and Dark magic, Harry had found that he was quite adept at making new spells. Light spells, Neterual spells, Dark spells, it didn’t matter, he could make it if he did the research. The spell he had in mind was most definitely Dark. Harry had taken to calling it Memoria Afflictionem, Memory Torment. It worked much like the torture curse, but instead of inflicting excruciating pain on the victim, it inflicted all the pain that the person who used it had ever felt in their entire life. Physical, emotional, spiritual, any attack, any pain that was felt by the user, it was all inflicted on the victim. The curse worked twice as much, amplifying the pain, if the person they were using it on had any hand in the pain they felt. The best part of the Memoria Afflictionem Curse was the fact the curse wouldn’t allow the victim to go insane or be able to escape in any semblance of a way while the curse was being performed or otherwise. Harry knew the spell worked and it was worse than the Cruciatus Curse when he used it on himself. Though since he had been hit by the Cruciatus Curse that was more than likely the reason. 

Harry clenched his fist and the effect of his curse was instantaneous. Vernon started screaming his head off, twisting against the invisible ropes that held him up against the wall but it was no use. There was absolutely no way Vernon would be able to break free. Without an ounce of magic flowing through his blood, he couldn’t somehow manage to overpower Harry’s spells. Harry did have to take a second to put up a stronger silence spell around the house, as Vernon’s screams because it was inhumanly loud and shook the other sound barrier spell. 

Harry chuckled as he watched his walrus of an uncle flail against his magic bonds with dark amusement. “The pain you're feeling is all the pain that you, and several others, have put me through over the years. All the beatings you gave me for no reason at all. The whip lashing you thought would keep my magic in line, and because you simply liked watching someone beg and plead for you to stop. All the times you burned me, hit me, belittled me. Physical and emotional, all that pain. The beatings your son and his little gang gave me. All of the other pain I’ve been through my entire life.” Harry explained, somehow his voice managed to be heard over the screams. The laugh that left him was cold and heartless without even a hint of remorse, and why should he have any remorse after everything they’ve done to him. “You liked the power but the tables have turned, Vernon.”

Even though Harry let his hand fall to his side, his curse still went on. Humming, Harry walked around the table covered with gifts. He would show mercy to Dudley and make him not remember what happened to his family on his birthday, unless he decided to continue with his bullying tendencies. Still, even though Harry would wipe his memory of this, he knew that not all memories, especially traumatic ones, could be fully erased. Some part of this lesson would stick, that much he was sure of. 

Still, Harry couldn’t help his eyes lighting up a bit in amusement as he saw the tears streaming down all the Dursley’s faces and the fear in their eyes. It was a power high that Harry never before would have allowed himself to have, even if those thoughts were always in the back of his mind, one he was more than happy to indulge himself with after everything he learned before his death and subsequent resurrection. “How about you, Dudley? Should I force you to feel all the pain you and your gang decided to inflict on me with your ‘Harry Hunting’?” Harry questioned, flicking Dudley’s forehead. The boy whimpered, shaking and begging for Harry to stop. Harry simply waved his hand and all sound ceased from the boy. Harry didn’t want to hear his pleads. Dudley and his friends certainly never listened to him. “No… I guess maybe not.” Harry laughed before looking at his aunt. Even Harry knew it would be going too far to put him under the same torture as his father was under. The sins of the father and mother should be the sins of the child no matter what anyone said. Dudley only became a bully because he saw his father beating Harry up and therefore thought it was okay, that it was natural. Harry just hoped that he would change when he ultimately got into a new environment.

If there was anyone in the world that Harry possibly hated more than Dumbledore, it was Petunia Dursley. The woman who should have cherished that she had a piece of her deceased sister left had given him nothing but pain and torment. She willingly went with Dumbledore’s plans. And for what? The money Dumbledore was giving them to make sure he lived a miserable life? She willingly sold him out for a hundred galleons a month, and it wasn’t even for the money Harry would bet. Harry knew that Petunia still had love for Lily, although it was buried by years of jealousy and anger and feelings of inadequacy, but what she did to Harry was even more disturbing than what he was doing to her husband. She blamed Harry for the death of his parents, instead of his parents murderer, and thus let him be abused, neglected, and tortured, participated in his abuse, neglect, and torture. 

“I wonder what my mother would say to you if she was here today and knew what you allowed to happen to her only son, what you participated in. Hell, I believe even knowing what happened to her son would cause my mother to go so red with fury she would use the Cruciatus Curse on you for hours on you for hours on end until your mind was nothing but slush. I could dole out the punishment but that would be too good for you, Petunia.” Harry snapped his fingers and Vernon collapsed to the ground with a loud thud and whimper of pain. The second part of the Memoria Afflictionem Curse would take affect soon and leave him with no signs of the torture for anyone to find. “For years, you’ve taken money from my vaults to take care of me in the way Dumbledore wanted you to. To abuse me, to starve me, to make me the perfect malleable puppet for him to control when I went to Hogwarts. You screamed, shouted, belittled, hurt me, blamed me for the death of my mother and ending up with me. You told me that my parents died in a car crash, that they were worthless bums who didn’t work at all. You called me ungrateful and complained about how from the generosity of your own fucking hearts you took care of me, all the while lining your pockets to spoil your pig of a son and have a lavish lifestyle while I was left with NOTHING! You even report about me to Dumbledore. It really is quite despicable. Do you have anything to say for yourself, _Petunia?_ ” Harry spat the name out like it was dirt, poison on his tongue. 

All Petunia could do was stare at the eleven year old with shock and fear written all over her face for a few minutes while Harry not-so patiently waited for an answer. This wasn’t the sweet boy who immediately followed all their directions and didn’t complain at all. The one who took all his punishments without even a scream or cry anymore. This was a monster. “You deserved it! We deserved more for having to take care of your freakish self! YOU KILLED MY SISTER!” Petunia screeched. Harry had to close his eyes to keep from throwing himself at her and strangling her until no life was left in that pathetic mortal body of hers. A low growl left his lips and for a brief second pain erupted from his back. He felt a weight behind him and the strange feeling of feathers brushing against his skin as his shirt fell to tatters around him but Harry ignored it with practiced easy, instead focusing to keep from killing the screaming bitch before him. 

Once he was centered, and had control of the darker side of him that screamed to slaughter all three Dursley’s were they were, he opened his now glowing green eyes. He moved to the wall behind Petunia to finish out his plans. “You deserve nothing less than what you will get coming to you, Petunia. All the money you stole from me will come back to my hands. Your son ripped from your arms and is no longer allowed to be anywhere around you. The rest of your and Vernon’s lives will be spent in ruins. You will never recover, never become anything more than the slimy disgusting, less than human being you are, and everyone will know it. No one will come to your aid, but if someone does try, they too will be ruined for it until they cut all contact with you. Dudley, he will be spared, but only because he will not be in your custody much longer, his only memories of you and your husband will be of monsters who destroyed his life. However, should the people he end up with not be able to fix that horrid personality and greed of his, if he isn’t willing to change, he too will find himself in ruin like you. As I have said it, so mote it be.” He hissed the words at her, slamming his hand none too gently against the wall of the Dursley house. His magic kicked up, swirling dangerously around him. The scent of something rotten burning made all three Durlsey’s, Vernon included as the second part of the curse he was under kicked in, look towards it. A rune, about the size of one of their fine dining plates, was slowly being burned into the wall where it’s magic would keep it forever, even if the eventual new owners decide to bulldoze the place and make a new one, it would always reappear. It would forever be marked on the house, and even when the Dursleys were forced to leave, they would never escape the dark curse Harry just put on them as Mother Magic accepted it as payback against someone who dared to hurt one of her children so badly. It also helped that Harry had Death and Chaos on his side.

With the curse done, Harry finally looked back to see what was behind him. To his shock, two flaming black wings were attached to his back. The wings fluttered as Harry stared at them, a bit mesmerized. They looked just like the wings of a phoenix that were on the marking above his heart. The feathers looked extremely sharp to touch but when he ran his fingers through them, they felt like silk. Harry’s head tilted to the side before he closed his eyes and begged the wings to go away. He wouldn’t be able to make a quick escape to Gringotts Bank without anyone noticing him if he had giant wings basically screaming for everyone to look at him. Another shot of pain went down his spine but the weight disappeared. When Harry looked, the wings were gone. 

Shaking his head and pushing that knowledge aside hoping the goblins of Gringotts might have an explanation later, Harry looked back at his so-called family who were now as traumatized as he was. _An eye for an eye_ , Harry thought satisfied. “Don’t think about trying to get in contact with Dumbledore and telling him what happened. You will find that you will be unable to talk about me to anyone, except when the Aurors come along and you are forced to tell them that you were the guardians of Harry Potter, guardians who beat and belittled him until a hooded male came and rescued him but that is all you’ll be able to say about me. It will be as if I no longer existed, just like you wanted. Oh, but you will remember. Nothing will ever make you forget. No one, not even the powerful Albus Dumbledore will be able to take the curse off you or look into your minds to see what happened. Just know, you brought this all on yourselves. You have no one to blame but yourselves for the pain your inflicted on an innocent child who deserved absolutely none of it, because unlike what you believe, Petunia, I did not kill my parents. Voldemort killed them. I saw it happen. Dumbledore, the one you chose to follow so blindly, let it happen so he could swoop in and act like he saved the day but too bad for him the story of Harry Potter surviving the killing curse got out so he didn’t get the glory he wanted.” Harry gave one last glowering glare to Vernon and Petunia before looking at his cousin. “I hope you end up with a good family and change your ways, Big D. Even though you won’t remember this, I don’t blame you for how you turned out in the end. Your parents didn’t raise you well so I hope someone turns you around and you get to live a happy, healthy and successful life.” Harry offered his cousin, who he only held a bit of resentment towards though he truly believed it wasn’t Dudley’s fault, a small smile before a white ball of light shot from his hand and at Dudley. The boy instantly fell asleep as the binds released him and Harry knew that he wouldn’t remember any of the torture that Harry had put his father through. 

With another wave of his hand, the clothes that were too big for him transfigured into black robes inline with a green the same color as his eyes. Harry knew that his spiders were still safely inside, not at all bothered by the change of cloth around them. Harry pulled the hood of the robes over his head before swiftly exiting the dining room and then the Dursley household. A smirk formed on his face as he stopped across the street and looked back at the hell hole that he survived in for so long. A small part of him really wanted to burn the house, and those in it alive, but he stopped himself. Vernon and Petunia deserved so much more than an easy, albeit painful, death, and Dudley deserved the chance to change his life around for the better. Harry wasn’t completely heartless. He gave Dudley a fighting chance. 

Instead, Harry looked up to the sky, raising his hand. Black smoke emanated from his fingertips moving and shaping as it rose above the Dursley Household. A black misty dragon formed above the house he once lived at. It looked like a cloud except for the way it moved and shifted in the air, breathing out misty black flames that were harmless but terrifying if you didn’t know it. It flew above the house, never leaving the boundaries of the property. “That will make the old bastard freak.” Harry crackled to himself before quickly fleeing down the street grateful that nobody had seen him. It was only a matter of time before the ministry caught wind of the giant magic spike and the magic misty dragon floating above a muggle house and came to investigate and Harry wasn’t going to stick around to get caught. 

Once he was far enough away, Harry held out his arm and called to the Knight Bus. In a mere moment, the triple decker magical bus pulled in front of him. 

“Where to?” Stan asked as he got on. 

“”The Leaky Cauldron, please.” Harry told him, sitting down on the nearest bed. The bus immediately began to move, taking Harry far away from the house he had been so desperate to escape for years. Harry only wished he could see the look on Dumbledore’s face when he got the word that the Dusley’s were attacked and Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, and his ticket to even more glory, had simply vanished into thin air. Harry had plans that needed to be made and things he needed to know before he could begin his journey again through Hogwarts. One thing he knew for certain was that he would never allow Dumbledore to get his claws in him again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry visits the Goblins at Gringotts and begins to get an explanation. 
> 
> (I went back and rewrote the first two chapters so if you aren't new to this story you might want to go back and reread it. Things are a lot more detailed than they were before.)

A quick small confundus charm made the person collecting money on the Knight Bus think that Harry had paid him. Harry hadn’t wanted to do that, just like he didn’t want to make everyone on the Knight Bus forget he was on it once they arrived at the Leaky Cauldron. Unfortunately Harry didn’t have money to pay the fee and for his own protection he had no choice. Despite the fact that he had just tortured his uncle, made his cousin forget everything about his parents, and sent the small family to live the rest of their lives in ruins, Harry felt bad about not being able to pay the Knight Bus their due. He’s morals may be skewed, and he may have dropped his Golden Boy, do good mask to allow the real him to breath, but he still felt bad about it. The people who run the Knight Bus had never done anything bad to him. The first time that Harry had taken the Knight Bus, Stan and Ernie were actually really nice to him and they didn’t even know he was Harry Potter until after he was getting off. The people who ran the Knight Bus deserved their due. However, until Harry had access to his trust fund there was nothing he could do but use his magic so he wouldn’t have to pay the fee.

Shaking off the small amount of guilt he felt, Harry walked into the Leaky Cauldron. Just like every other time Harry had been in the pub, it was dark and shabby like it always was. There was the bar, which had a few people at it, and a number of tables hidden in the shadows of the corners. The entire place smelt of musk and cigarette smoke. It was dusty and dirt and could really use a good cleaning. The uncleanliness of it had Harry’s nerves on end like it always did whenever he was here. However this time it was harder to hold his magic back from fixing up the place now that it was stronger than ever. Harry hated being surrounded by dirt and grime. He hated when things didn’t have their order. It was why he absolutely hated being in Number 12 Grimmauld’s Place, only staying because he wanted to be with Sirius. Harry supposed his hatred of being surrounded by such stuff came from being forced to make sure the Dursleys house was absolutely spotless since the age of four when he had taken over all the chores in the house. Whenever the house wasn’t absolutely spotless, he got beatings for it. He had learned at a young age that things had their place, and dirt's place was outside where it belonged. 

There were very few people in the Leaky Cauldron. They were probably all guests who had stayed and got up early for breakfast. Some of them he recognized from when he first went to the pub with Hagrid. Harry mentally rolled his eyes at the suspicious look Tom, the bar owner, gave him as he approached it. Harry supposed he could understand it. He was much shorter than a normal eleven year old thanks to all the neglect from the Dursleys. He could barely pass as a nine year old, let alone anyone older than that. Children didn’t just go wandering around London. That and the fact that Harry had made sure that the hood of his robes made it impossible for anyone to even get a glimpse of his features. The striking Avada Kedavra green eyes and lightning scar on his forehead was a dead giveaway to who he was. The last thing he needed was someone talking about a Harry Potter sighting before he was ready and stable enough to fight back against Albus Dumbledore. 

“I need access to Diagon Alley, please.” Harry told him, using a simple spell before speaking to make his voice deeper. He also didn’t need any rumors about a child coming to the Leaky Cauldron to get to Diagon Alley to spread. Dumbledore would no doubt be trying to find him and it was better if Harry left absolutely no clues to his whereabouts. Tom would think he was just a wizard of small stature, and not an unsupervised child who needs someone to call the authorities to get them back where they need to be. 

“Right this way.” Tom said gruffly, staring down at Harry. He motioned to the door that Harry knew full well would lead to where he needed to go. With a small smirk on his face at the lack of questioning, he quickly followed after him. Tom tapped the stones with his wand and the entrance opened like it always did. Harry thanked the Leaky Cauldron owner properly, tilting his head slightly in a bow, before heading off into the Wixen Shopping Center. 

Although Harry had been to Diagon Alley more than five times in his previous life, he still couldn’t help but stare at it with awe on his face. The magic shopping center was always filled with such life. Everyone went about with an almost carefree spirit. They had nothing to worry about except mundane things. There was no Dark Lord rising up, threatening everyone's lives. However, Harry noticed something different about Diagon Alley now that he was actually looking. Magic hung off everything, moving around in every which direction. He could feel it everywhere, in everything. It was almost intoxicating, especially the different types of magic that came from the different offshoot walkways that went into the other alleys attached to Diagon Alley. 

Harry had explored the entirety of Diagon Alley, but he had only gone outside of it twice. Once when he floo’ed into Knockturn Alley, and once with Fred and George to actually explore Knockturn and the other alleys attached to it. Fred and George had always been closer to Harry than the three of them let on. Harry was more than willing to help them with their joke shop idea. He was a lot smarter than he let everyone know and easily helped them come up with new ideas or helped them figure out how to make the ideas they had. Harry was also more than willing to give them money to help them make their pranking things come to life. However, the three thought it was best to keep it a secret. Only Fred and George really knew how smart Harry was and how cunning and inventive he could be when he wanted to be. With Harry giving them the money from winning the Triwizards Tournament, they were practically inseparable. Mentally he wondered if it would be the same in this timeline too. He could only hope so. 

Harry shook his head, peeling his eyes away from the various shops that sold robes, telescopes, potion ingredients, books, quills, and everything else a witch or wizard might need to survive in their world, and all the magic that surrounded it. Instead, he focused on the giant white building that towered over everything else in Diagon Alley, Gringotts. Gringotts, the Wixen Bank, owned and operated by goblins. Harry knew that most Wixen treated the goblins like they were beneath them somehow, despite the fact that they had their own magic and sometimes even stronger magic than Wixen. He always hated people treating others even slightly different unless they deserved it. Even with everything he read about Goblins, he didn’t think they deserved to be treated badly. After spending years of being treated like he was beneath others, he hated seeing other people do it. That would be one of the things he needed to change. The way the Wixen World treated people they think are inferior to them was despicable. The whole issue between the Purebloods and Muggleborns was caused by Muggleborns trying to shove their ideals from the muggle world onto the Wixen one. Instead of teaching the Muggleborns what they were doing was bad and informing them what their traditions actually meant, the Purebloods snubbed them and treated them like trash. Everyone had their own uses and would be more than willing to help out if you gave them a chance and kept them informed. One only had to play their cards correctly. The Goblins were especially useful if you gave them respect and made sure to stay in their good graces. After all, the Latin quote that was engraved on Gringotts doors meant ‘Strength through loyalty.

The two goblins holding the first set of doors tried to hide the distrusting look, but it didn’t bother Harry. Instead, he put his hand in a fist over his heart and bowed his waist at a forty degree angle in the proper respectful nonverbal greeting. The goblins almost let go of the door in shock but Harry didn’t react as he straightened up, nodding to them before continuing into the bank. Engraved on the inner silver doors was a warning to all who entered. 

_ Enter, stranger, but take heed, Of what awaits the sin of greed. For those who take, but do not earn, Must pay most dearly in their turn. So if you seek beneath our floors, A treasure that was never yours, Thief, you have been warned, beware Of finding more than treasure there. _

Harry bowed to the goblins flanking these doors, earning more shocked looks as he entered the vast marble hall inside. Two long counters stretched along its length doing various tasks as their job entailed. Harry briefly looked around to see if he could see anyone he recognized but none of the Wixen in Gringotts were familiar. The only one Harry did recognize was the Head Goblin that sat on a high desk on the other side of the hall. Seeing that Ragnok, the Head Goblin, was free, Harry immediately headed towards as determination rushed through his veins. Chaos has told him that the goblins were the first place to look for guidance and all he had to do was show them the mark of his blessing. He hoped it would be that simple. 

The desk that the Head Goblin sat at towered over Harry making him hate his eleven year old body all the more. Harry had never been all that tall, despite the glamour he used so that his friends wouldn’t worry about him. A side effect from prolonged abuse and neglect he assumed, but at least in his fifth year he was a bit taller than the desk. The Head Goblin didn't even realize someone was there until Harry cleared his throat gently. “Excuse me, sir.” He spoke up, craning his neck to look up at the barely visible goblin. Ragnok jumped slightly before peering down. Harry bowed to him in the appropriate goblin greeting, bowing slightly more because he was the Head Goblin. He had learned about Goblin customs in one of the many books he took to reading in the dead of night at Hogwarts under his invisibility cloak. 

“How can I… help you?” Ragnok questioned, a tiny bit of shock in his voice. Harry couldn’t blame him for the look of distrust, despite the respectful greeting. He looked over his shoulders and once he was certain that no one was staring at him, besides a couple of goblins who were watching the scene to step in, in case Harry was dangerous. Harry unbuttoned the top two buttons of his transfigured robes. He pulled the fabric back to show the black mark on his chest. The Head Goblin let out a loud gasp, forcing Harry to quickly fix his robes as some of the Wixen patreons looked over to see what was going on. 

“I was told that you could help me, and I need to speak to someone about my vault. I’d much rather do that… away from prying ears if we could, Master Goblin, sir.” Harry gestured offhandedly gestured around to the people who didn’t even try to act like they weren’t listening in to the small wizard and startled Head Goblin. Ragnok nodded quickly, jumping up from his seat.

“Yes, of course, right this way” Ragnok stated motioning to the hallway behind the large desk once he moved to the side so Harry could see him. Harry quickly followed him. After several long stretches of hallways, more than a few twisting and confusing turns, the Head Goblin finally stopped in front of a door. Right next to it was a silver plate titling the room as his office. Harry walked into it after the goblin opened the door. 

The office was rather spacey. There was a desk in the back with a seating area for less important meetings in the front of the room. The walls were floor to ceiling bookcases, each book having the last name of everyone who ever owned a vault in this branch of Gringotts. “May I know who you are before we start to discuss things?” Ragnok questioned, though the tone of his voice made it sound less like a question and more like an order. Harry mentally laughed at the thought of anyone ordering him around anymore but he wanted a good standing with the goblins so he obliged. Without further delay, he removed the hood of his robes and dropped the spell that veiled his face in darkness, shaking out his always messy hair. A hum left Harry as he ran his fingers through it. It was longer than he was used to, brushing up against the top of his back and less messy than normal. He made a mental note to find a mirror later to see how different he looked. 

“I’m Harry, Harry Potter. Nice to officially meet you, Master Goblin Ragnok.” Harry offered Ragnok a small smile as he offered his hand. He shook it before motioning them to sit at the desk. 

“Well Mr. Potter, I thought I would be seeing you soon but not like this. Normally young wizards are accompanied by their magical guardians, and none of them have ever shown the decorum and respect that you have shown us. Though I guess with that mark of yours, I shouldn’t be too surprised.” Ragnok stated as he settled in the large leather chair behind the desk while Harry sat in front of it. “What can us goblins do for you?”

“Well, my abusive muggle aunt and uncle are… kind of in a predicament of their own at the moment, probably being questioned by Aurors, and are unable to even take care of their own son, who seems to have a nasty case of forgetting his entire life. As for a magical guardian, I have none to my knowledge. No one from the magical world has been in contact with me at all since I was left on their doorstep on a very cold Halloween night ten years ago.” Harry explained, a wicked grin forming on his face at the thought of what he did to his aunt and uncle. They absolutely deserved it and he had no reason to lie to the goblin. He knew that they would understand him taking matters into his own hands since they absolutely detested child abuse because of the low birth rates of goblins, besides, they would never have an proof he did nothing. Harry was smart enough to cover up his magical signature so the Aurors of the Ministry would find absolutely no signs of who had done it. Child abuse and stealing goblin made items were the worse crimes that anyone, magic or not, could do in goblins mind. “As for what you can do for me, I was told that the first place I should look for answers regarding my mark was here, and I also believe I am having trouble with my vault. You see, I don’t have the key to it, my muggle guardians didn’t either, and I believe that the person who does have it might be using it for nefarious deeds.” Harry knew that Dumbledore had the key and was using it to steal money from him and he wanted to stop that immediately. 

Ragnok snarled at the accusation. “We shall see if you have one or not with a blood inheritance test and I will personally look at the records and look into the goblin who is the account holder to see if someone has wronged you. First, however, I must ask if I can see the mark on your chest again. I just want to make sure what I think I saw was what I saw.” The goblin hummed. 

Harry nodded and undid the top of his robes, pulling back the fabric to show the mark of Death and Chaos. Ragnok paused for a second before nodding. “I see. Us goblins know a lot of things, Mr. Potter, so it is good that you came to us asking for help. Normally we wouldn’t be too willing to help the likes of you Wixen but those marks and your respect towards me and the others you have met give me reasons to help you.” 

“Thank you, Master Goblin, Sir. I appreciate it.” Harry offered him a smile. 

“You are most welcome, Mr. Potter. Do you know what those markings mean?” Ragnok asked pointing at Harry’s chest where the Deathly Hallow symbol and black flaming phoenix wings rested on pale skin covered in bruises, cuts, and scars. The goblin looked absolutely livid when he saw the markings that weren’t made by magic but he hid it pretty well.

“This,” Harry started running a finger over the Deathly Hallow symbol; the triangle that was the invisibility cloak, the wand, and the stone. “Is the Deathly Hallow symbol, the symbol of the Master of Death. I believe at least, though I’m not exactly sure what that means. The wings, I believe are the markings of Chaos.” He frowned, not liking that he didn’t have the answers and that he didn’t know if the answers he assumed were right were actually correct. His explanation was the only thing that made sense to him as he had only seen Death and Chaos around him in the veil before he was sent back, but that didn’t necessarily mean it was true.

“That is somewhat true. The Deathly Hallow symbol was created by the Peverell brothers who had all met Death and got an item from him. The Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Cloak of Invisibility. The two oldest quickly lost their gifts from Death, but the youngest kept his hidden and he learned about Death through a magic branch known as Necromancy. He was able to converse with Death through this and thus gained the title of Death Master. Only certain children from any of the three Peverell lines could unlock Necromancy magic and become a Death master, the reasons aren’t known by us goblins, but you are correct on the Deathly Hallow symbol being theirs. It was really all kept a secret. There should be more books relating to this in the Peverell Vaults, if you gain access to them when we do a blood inheritance test, that should give you more information.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion but he didn’t ask the many questions that popped in his head wondering how the goblins even knew about this if it was considered a secret. 

“Now the phoenix wings are a bit more difficult to explain. Even we do not know the true origins of them, who first received it, but we do know of their legacy. The last person to have black phoenix markings was Merlin himself, and he made the legacy of that mark all the more legendary.” Ragnok continued. “The phoenix wings themselves show that the person is blessed by Lady Magic, however, you have ones that are black instead of the normal grey, which shows that you are blessed by both Lady Magic and Lord Chaos. Since you have been living with muggles who hate magic, you probably don’t know this, but Lord Chaos is actually the beginning of everything around us and beyond. He created this world and everything in it, including Lady Magic herself. It takes quite a lot to be blessed by them. To be blessed by Lady Magic and Lord Chaos means that you are destined to change the world around us and lead us to new heights, though only time will tell if it will be heights of war or heights of peace.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More discussions with Master Goblin Ragnok

It was rather unfortunately that Ragnok, Head Goblin of the Britain Branch of Gringotts, didn’t have all the answers that Harry was looking for. All he could tell him about the markings was that he was blessed by Lady Magic and Chaos, and a Death Master. Harry completely understood why they didn’t have much information, it wasn’t exactly something that others who were like him would want spread around everywhere, but he had hoped for more subsistence than just legends and rumor mill. Chaos had told him to come here for guidance but there wasn’t much the goblins knew for certain it seemed. He got absolutely no information on why he suddenly had wings. They were gone currently, but he could feel them as if they were resting just underneath his skin, begging to come out. Maybe, like Ragnok had said, there would be more information in his vaults? He could only hope so. 

“Now that it is explained, let’s talk about your other issue.” Ragnok’s voice pulled Harry out of his thoughts. “First, we are going to need to do a blood inheritance test to make sure you are who you say you are and to see what vaults are yours. Do you know what a blood inheritance test is, Mister Potter?” The goblin questioned, in a slightly condescending voice as most wixen didn’t, as he reached into one of the many drawers of his desk to grab one out. Although he didn’t handle these things normally, it was a job for lesser goblins than himself, he always made sure to keep a few handy just in case any special customers came in to see him. 

“Yes, sir. A blood inheritance test takes the blood of any creature and maps out any and all inheritance that they have, including their name, who their parents are, family names they are due to inherit, any spells, compulsions, or potions they are or have been inflicted with long term, and much more.” Harry explained verbatim from the pamphlet about ‘What Gringotts Goblins Could Do For You’ that he had found tucked into a book at Hogwarts in his fourth year at Hogwarts in his past life. It had been pretty informative. Harry had wanted to get one done after he found the pamphlet but Ron had found him with it and freaked. At least, he knew why he had never been able to get to Gringotts to do it. Every time he went he either suddenly forgot what he wanted to do or he was immediately pulled away from the building by Ron, Ginny, or Molly. It had to be some kind of compulsion spell that kept him from doing it that was broken when he was sent back in time.

“Right you are, Mister Potter.” The goblin stated, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “Strange, not many eleven year old's who have lived with muggles would know that.” 

Harry mentally rolled his eyes. Not many eleven year old's who lived with muggles and knew nothing about the magical world, as muggles wouldn’t have, would know how to get to Diagon Alley either or even know about the Wixen Bank. Harry wasn’t going to explain how he knew all of this though if he didn’t have to. How could he explain that he was from the future or how he got here in his younger body without sounding completely crazy? As it was, the entire thing confused him and he needed the goblins on his side instead of thinking of him as a threat. Those who meddled with time weren’t thought of highly by anyone, let alone the Goblins.

“Let’s get this done quickly now. I have much to do today. Thirteen drops of blood on this parchment if you would, Mister Potter.” Ragnok obviously decided it wasn’t worth questioning as he slid the piece of parchment over to Harry with a silver knife, obviously goblin-made. In Britain, blood magic was illegal, however it was allowed to be used by the Goblins, who had their own government who deemed it legal, and the signing of important legal documents in the British Ministry so you would be bound to your word. 

Blood magic had been labeled as Dark Magic since it forces the person to do as they say or because someone could use your blood against you, even though it had legitimate helpful uses when it came to healing that were outlawed as well. Harry was glad he had learned about it before the whole cursed blood quill that Umbridge forced him to use. She had tried to get him to sign his name on every single paper after writing the lines ‘I must not tell lies’. He always refused, even though it had given him more detentions with her for not following a professor's instructions. Harry wasn’t as stupid as the people around him thought. He knew signing his name would force him to be unable to tell lies, no matter what. Harry always made sure to draw a rune on every piece of parchment paper that would cause it to burn up should someone try to extract his blood from it, just to be safe. Since he had never taken a rune class, no one would be suspicious that he would know something like that, and as he charmed the parchment to cover the rune from sight no one would even know it was there. It was illegal but the parchment always went up in flame taking the evidence of his crimes with it. However, as far as anyone, but the Weasley Twins who were loyal to him, knew Harry Potter had never touched a single book on Ancient Runes. The mask he had donned as the Golden Boy of the Light side was too perfect, no one but those he allowed to see the real him could see past it. 

Shaking his head, Harry made a cut on his left ring finger, letting exactly thirteen drops of blood fall onto the charmed parchment paper before healing the wound and cleaning up the excess blood on him and the knife. Although he didn’t think the goblins would do anything with his blood, it was better to be safe than sorry, and Ragnok obviously approved of his actions. From the pamphlet Harry had found out that the goblin magic on the parchment of blood inheritance tests worked just like the rune he had created and used against Umbridge, only slightly different. If anyone dared to try and go against the goblins to get his blood, they would be out of luck. Not only would the paper burn to ashes, but they would be frozen where they were and an alarm would go off informing the guards what happened. Goblins didn’t mess around when it came to their clients and gold. 

Harry watched, eyes gleaming as the blood soaked into the parchment paper before words in blood red started to write across it moments later. Ragnok picked it up before he could. It annoyed Harry slightly but it was the goblins territory and their rules. Instead Harry watched the expression of the Head Goblin.  _ Whatever he is reading must be a shock, _ Harry thought, noticing the slight changes in the goblins facial features. The subtle widening of his eyes and the sudden straightening of his back were dead give away that there was something on that parchment paper he wasn’t expecting to see.

“This is most unusual, Mister Potter, and it paints a dark view on your past.” Ragnok finally spoke up masking his expression again as he looked up from the piece of parchment in his hands. Without another word, Harry grabbed the paper from his outstretched hand and began reading it. 

_ ‘Name: Hadrian James Ignotus Potter _

_ Status: Pureblood _

_ Mother: Lily Jane Potter nee Evans [Deceased] _

_ Maternal Grandmother: Amelia Maria Evans nee Malfoy [Deceased] _

_ Maternal Grandfather: Johnson Axel Evans [Deceased] _

_ Maternal Aunt: Petunia Marigold Dursley nee Evans [Adopted in the Evans family, illegal guardian] _

_ Father: James Charlus Potter [Deceased] _

_ Paternal Grandmother Euphemia Potter nee Fawley [Deceased] _

_ Paternal Grandfather: Fleamont Stephen Potter [Deceased] _

_ Paternal Uncle: Sirius Black (Adopted) _

_ Godfather and Magical Father through blood adoption: Sirius Black _

_ Godmother: Narcissa Malfoy nee Black _

_ Magical Protector: Fleur Isabelle Delacour (Double life debt from other life, accepted in other life, carried over) _

_ Magical Guardian: Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore (Illegal) _

_ Titles with Claim to: _

_ Potter [Lordship, last of line] _

_ Peverell [Lordship, last of line] _

_ Emrys [Lordship, past down from blessing of Lord Chaos and Lady Magic] _

_ Ravenclaw [Lordship, last of line] _

_ Hufflepuff [Lordship, last of main line] _

_ Gryffindor [Lordship, last of main line] _

_ Chaus [Lordship, child of Lord Chaos] _

_ Slytherin [Lordship, through rite of conquest of someone from the main line, and secondary bloodline] _

_ Black [Heir from main line] _

_ Inheritance Abilities: _

_ Parseltongue and Parselmagic _

_ Natural Occlumens _

_ Necromancy _

_ Mage Sight _

_ Spell Weaver _

_ Runic Weaver _

_ Creature Inheritance: Regiis Sephiroth _

**_[Core size goes as such: Muggle, Magician, Witch/Wizard, Enchanter, Sorcerer, Magus]_ **

_ Core: Multicore, Magus  _

_ Soulmates (Will fill in as found): _

_ Unknown, Light Core _

_ Unknown, Neutral Core _

_ Unknown, Dark Core _

_ Bindings, Spells, Hexes, Curses, and Potions Long Influencing: _

_ Loyalty Spell keyed to Albus Dumbledore, Molly Weasley, Ronald Weasley, Ginevra Weasley, Order of the Phoenix [Destroyed] _

_ Compulsion Spell to always listen and never question keyed to Albus Dumbledore [Destroyed] _

_ Hatred Spell keyed to Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy, Malfoy Family, Slytherin House, Dark Cored Wixen, Dark Creatures [Destroyed] _

_ Love Potion keyed to Ginevra Weasley [Destroyed] _

_ Fake Soulmate Bond Spell keyed to Ginevra Weasley [Destroyed] _

_ Magic Core Binding [85%, Destroyed] _

_ Magic Core Neutral and Dark Binding [100%, Destroyed] _

_ Intelligence Inhibitor Binding [65%, Destroyed] _

_ Soulmate Bond Binding [100%, Destroyed] _

_ Parseltongue Binding [80%, Destroyed] _

_ Parselmagic Binding [100%, Destroyed] _

_ Natural Occlumens Binding [100%, Destroyed] _

_ Magic Sight Binding [95%, Destroyed] _

_ Spell Weaver Binding [86%, Destroyed] _

_ Runic Weaver Binding [86%, Destroyed] _

_ Vessel of Horcrux [Age One, via Killing Curse rebound. Horcrux of Tom Riddle] _

A small explosion of accidental magic lashed out from Harry rattling the books on the shelves around the office before he reeled it in. Harry’s magic pulsed under his skin angrily, wanting nothing more than to lash out at everything in sight. His entire body shook from the strain of holding it all inside and keeping the wings from sprouting out of his back to protect him. Harry didn’t want his wings coming out and freaking out the goblin in front of him. Besides, it wasn’t like the wings could protect him from something that already happened.

Harry had no doubt in his mind that everything that was put on him had been done by Dumbledore. No doubt that Dumbledore had made Molly believe that he and the youngest of their clan would marry and then Harry would die and they’d end up with all his money. It did piss him off knowing that he had all of these things on him for years without his knowledge. The compulsions made sense. The moment Harry had seen Dumbledore, he had trusted him, ignoring all the signs that something was wrong with it. He hadn’t even questioned why Dumbledore continued to send him to the Dursleys despite knowing that he was being abused. It wasn’t until after his fourth year he began to question him, but even so he had been stupid enough to not act on these feelings. Harry was beyond angry that he allowed himself to be played the fool for so long. 

Breathing in deeply to try to keep his calm, Harry looked up from the paper. “What is a Horcrux?” It obviously wasn’t anything good considering that it was something Tom Riddle, Voldemort, had created with a killing curse. 

“A Horcrux is one of the darkest of magic’s, Mister Potter Not much is known about it as it has been considered too dark for public knowledge. All books on it were supposed to either be destroyed or put in a vault that only members of the ICW can enter where knowledge or dark items are supposed to go to keep them out of the public's hands. What we do know is that it is created by a person splitting their soul and that piece of soul attaching itself to an object to make one virtually immortal. How it is done, isn’t known by us.” Ragnok stared at him with intrigue. There seemed to be a million questions rushing through the goblins head but none left him, much to Harry’s relief. 

A shiver went down his spine at the thought of a piece of Voldemort's soul was inside of him. The fact that it had been attached to him the same day his parents died disgusted him. However, it made the connection that he had with Voldemort make a lot more sense. Dumbledore had tried to explain it but Harry hadn’t understood it at all.  _ Dumbledore probably knew about the horcruxes,  _ Harry thought bitterly. It made complete sense. If a piece of Voldemort’s soul was inside him, the only way for Voldemort to be truly defeated was if Harry died or it was removed. That added with the fact that Dumbledore, on multiple occasions in the memories that were taken from him, had said Harry wouldn’t survive fighting against Voldemort. Dumbledore had told the Dursley’s to abuse him, to make him weak and malleable for when he showed up at Hogwarts. To make him so desperate for love and attention that he would latch onto the first people who showed him the attention he wanted so badly. Then he put pawns in place so that he could control Harry through them. Dumbledore had raised him up to die. He had thought he learned everything about Dumbledore’s betrayal and how deep it went but he couldn’t be too surprised at the fact. How else would Dumbledore have gotten to be the Leader of the Light, the praised Wizard, if Harry was still around? Even if he had been a pawn of Dumbledore’s, no matter how much he loathed to admit it, Harry would have taken the shine away from the corrupt Headmaster and Dumbledore couldn’t allow that to happen. 

“Do you know what a Regiis Sephiroth is?” Harry had read about many different creature inheritances that witches and wizards could come into when they hit certain ages, all stemming from the mix of creature blood from their ancestors, but he had never heard of Regiis Sephiroth. He hadn’t even heard about a creature with such a name. Was that why he suddenly had wings he didn’t have previously?

“I do not know, Mister Potter. There might be information you can find in books in your vaults though once you gain access to them but before we do that I have some questions about your inheritance test, if you would be kind enough to answer them.” Ragnok frowned. 

“That depends on what you ask, Master Goblin Ragnok.” Harry answered honestly. Ragnok looked slightly impressed, nodding his head in agreement. 

“It says you have a magical protector. I know of the French Veela witch Fleur Delacour, but it says there are two life debts that were carried over from another life. Could you explain that to me?” 

Harry quickly looked away from the Head Goblin, staring instead at the many books on the shelves around the office. Harry wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to tell the goblin about him dying and then coming back to life as his eleven year old self. He wasn’t even sure if he could without majorly changing something in the future before it was time to do so. Though, Harry supposed he had already done so when he tortured Vernon, made sure none of them could speak about him, and then left the Dursley household leaving a dragon above the muggle household as a warning to Dumbledore. A warning Dumbledore would more than likely take as something completely different than it was and set him off in a completely different direction when it came to him trying to find Harry. Besides that, Harry really didn’t understand why Fleur had a life debt to him, let alone two. He hadn’t been told that she had accepted any debts to him.

Harry knew what life debts were. If someone with magic saved someone else with magic from imminent death, whether true or perceived, the person they saved owed them a life debt. Some people collected in on them right away. Others waited for something more important to come around. Few didn’t care about life debts. From one of the pureblood tradition books Harry had read from the Black Library, purebloods were told to always get life debts over with as quickly as possible so you couldn’t be forced to betray everything you knew. If they refuse to do what the creditor wants, their magic was stripped from them, and in more cases than not, the magic leaving them kills them on the spot. He, however, didn’t know what a magical protector was, or why Fleur would have taken that position because of two life debts. 

It took several minutes but Harry eventually decided it was best to tell Ragnok what happened and how he came back to the past so he could ask his own questions. Chaos had told him that the goblins were the best place for information. Maybe he had meant it not about the markings, but this? First, he would have to make sure the goblin couldn’t tell anyone about it without his expressed, verbal permission. The less people who knew he was back from the future, the better. It would create less ripples in the timeline. 

“I will answer that question, Master Goblin, but first I want you to swear an oath to Lady Magic that you will not tell anyone what I tell you without my verbal permission, making sure I am not under spells, curses, potions, or anything else tricking me into letting you tell someone I wouldn’t let you otherwise.” Harry made sure to hold eye contact with Ragnok making sure to word it in a certain way so it would be impossible for the goblin to get around it if he swore the oath. For a brief moment, Harry felt the marking of the wings heat up. No to the point it felt like he was burning, but a nice, loving warmth, as weird as it was to say. A pulse of magic, not his own, vibrated the room around them for a brief moment. Lady Magic showed her presence briefly to show the goblin how important it was.

Ragnok stared down Harry. “I vow to Lady Magic that I will not repeat, write, or otherwise try to communicate to anyone, anything that you say to me or have said to me in this meeting without your expressed, non-influenced, by spells, potions, curses, compulsions, or other magic that wish to control you, verbal permission.” He finally relented. If Lady Magic blessed it, he would do so. 

Harry let out a quiet hum before nodding. “I am from the future. Four years to be exact. Things in the Wixen World started to get bad once I reentered this world. Voldemort isn’t truly gone, and he’s never been completely defeated. He tried to rise again in my first and second year, and managed to rise again in my fourth year during the Triwizard's Tournament. That is where I met Miss Delacour. She was the champion of Beauxbatons.” Harry paused trying to figure out all he should explain. Ragnok was already pale, as pale as a goblin could be at least. He looked like he wanted to deny it but there wasn’t much he could actually deny. It was obvious that Harry knew more than he should if he had spent the last ten years in the muggle world. “That year, I saved her sister from the Black Lake during the Second Tournament where we were fighting against merpeople and grindylow that were guarding people the champions cared about that were taken into the lake. The third task was in a maze. One of the other champions were under the Imperius curse. They stunned Miss Delacour and used the cruciatus curse on her when i came along and stopped them, which ended in them running off. I shot off red sparks for the teachers to find and rescue her.”

“Honestly, I haven’t seen her since she left Hogwarts to go back to Beauxbatons, and I didn’t know she owed me any life debts or that she accepted them. What exactly is a magical protector and how is she that to me?” Harry questioned before shaking his head. Without the goblin even asking, Harry knew he wanted more information. “My fifth year I led my friends and I to the Department of Mysteries because I got a vision from Voldemort that he was torturing my godfather. Death Eaters showed up wanting the prophecy that Voldemort and I are a part of and then the Order showed up. We ended up in the room with the Veil of Death in it. Someone shot off a killing curse at Sirius but I pushed him away and fell into the Veil myself. Death and Lord Chaos sent me back to the day I first learned that magic was real after showing me all of my memories and how badly Dumbledore manipulated me. And that’s… all I know.” He finished. Not all he knew but the goblin didn’t need to know all of it. Harry knew about his self imposed mission he would make sure was carried out. He just wasn’t sure if he could trust the goblin with that. If anyone could find a loophole in an oath to Lady Magic, it would be a goblin. 

“I see… I see.” Ragnok muttered in thought. It took several moments to digest the information that the Boy-Who-Lived just threw at him. He had never heard anything like it in all his years of life, which for a goblin was quite long. He hadn’t even heard stories or myths like it before and all the stories and myths and legends of not just goblin lore but other creatures were passed down from generation to generation of goblins back in his tribe. It was completely new territory. “Just as I thought, this is most unusual but it makes more sense. I think it would be best if we get in contact with the Delacour’s now. With the Veela witch’s position as your magical protector, something only she can explain I’m afraid, it is important she is informed. Since she isn’t of age, that means her parents will also need to be involved as her duties partially fall upon them. Would it be okay if I requested them to come here?” 

Harry stared at him for a moment, tossing the pros and cons of it. Eventually his curiosity about what a magical protector was got the better of him. “I think it would be best, but please keep out why you need them until they get here and whoever you get to send them the message must not know the Delacours are needed for a meeting with me. The less people who know about me being here the better. I am trying to keep out from underneath Dumbledore’s gaze until I have to go to Hogwarts” Harry hoped that Ragnok would be able to do that. 

“Very well. I will send word out. While we wait we can work on getting your Lordships dealt with. Of course, the money for the conference room to speak with the Delacour's will have to come from one of your vaults. Shall I take it from the Potter’s Vault?” Ragnok grinned a shark-like grin. Harry chuckled before nodding his consent to it. It was such a goblin thing to do but Harry didn’t mind at all. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord rings and half of meeting with the Delacour's.
> 
> Do you guys want to see what is happening with Madam Bones and Dumbledore next chapter or continue on with the meeting and learning about the Magical Protector thing between Harry and Fleur?

A quiet hum left Harry’s lips as he stared at the rings that now adorned his hands. The four rings, three on his left and one of his right, glistened even in the lighting of the conference room Ragnok and him sat in. Each one was shiny, and polished, even the ones that hadn’t been worn in centuries. All of them looked brand new but Harry knew that wasn’t true, they were all made centuries ago. 

Ragnok had explained that the only way he could have full access to his vaults was if he was considered an adult in the eyes of the Wixen World. At seventeen people were considered adults in the Wixen World, which Harry wasn’t when he died. However, it seems that his memories and the life debt with Fleur weren’t the only things that followed him back into the past. After doing a spell that would give the best chances for one to be emancipated, they learned that the tournament he was forced to participate in made him a legal adult in Lady Magic’s eyes. Harry would have been pissed when he learned from Ragnok that Dumbledore could have gotten him out of the TriWizard’s Tournament if it wasn’t for that little fact. He was certain that Dumbledore hadn’t known that allowing him to participate would make him a legal adult, but Harry was certain that he had found out after the fact. The goblin did say that they would have sent him a letter informing of his status change. Yet another thing that Dumbledore knew about but kept from him so his puppet wouldn’t disappear. And Harry knew, had he known about being an adult in the eyes of magic and even half the money in his vaults at his fingertips, he would have disappeared from the British Wixen World in a heartbeat. Friends or not, he hadn’t wanted to be in the war he was thrusted into at the age of eleven.

Harry found it odd that certain Lordship rings were able to combine to make one. He wasn’t sure if it was just the magic compatibility in the rings that allowed them to join or if it had something to do with the closeness or blood relations of the families they belonged with. Ragnok had reassured him that the rings would disconnect when he wanted to pass them on to any heirs he had in the future, not that Harry had been too worried about something so far away. The Potter and Peverell rings had merged into one. One half of the ring was a tarnished gold color with ruby jewels and half the Potter Crest. The other half was made out of silver that was carved to look like wood with onyx and white opal jewels and the Peverell Crest merged with the Potter one, the Deathly Hallows symbol. The Hogwarts Founders Family rings merged together with the Emrys ring, much to Harry’s confusion. Harry had heard two different stories about Merlin Emrys, both contradicted each other and didn’t give any answer to the question of why the rings could merge. One was that he existed long before Hogwarts was created, hundreds of years in fact, and the other was that he was a Slytherin. Harry wasn’t sure which story to believe, but it didn’t change the fact that the Emrys ring was just a single part of the five part ring. That ring was interesting to look at with all its different mismatched parts. Gryffindor’s ring was made of pure silver and red rubies with the lion of Gryffindor house shown proudly, Ravenclaw’s ring was made of a mixture of silver and gold with four sapphires and an eagle taking flight, Hufflepuff’s ring was made of a similar tarnished gold that the Potter ring was made of with no jewels and a honey badger proudly shown, Slytherin’s ring was sterling silver covered in emeralds with a basilisk, and the Emrys’s ring was made of oak wood and some druid runes Harry didn’t recognize. The shank of the five part ring showed the different parts of each house. It was the face and carving of the signet ring that showed smaller versions of what is on the original rings. 

Both the Potter-Peverell and Founders-Emrys rings, Harry wore on his left ring and left middle finger respectively. The Chaus Lordship ring, made of some kind of black unknown metal and equally black jewels with a silver dragon carving, refused to merge with any of the other rings. Ragnok informed him that the Chaus House, although only mentioned in rare ancient texts and mostly thought of as a myth, was the most prominent family he was the Lord of. Eventually when the word got out, those who followed pureblood tradition would refer to him first and foremost as Lord Chaus, unless they were told otherwise. That was why Harry elected to wear it on his left pinkie finger. As for the Black Heir ring, Harry wore it on his right ring finger as he wasn’t the Lord of the Black Family, technically no one was at the moment as Sirius was still in Azkaban, and wearing it on his pinkie finger would make it more difficult to write.

As Harry was trying on the rings, Ragnok explained why Lord and Heir rings were very important. Which was something he hadn’t known, despite being so curious as to why the purebloods in his year always wore one if they were the heir. Apparently, every Lord and Heir ring was created with many different charms, spells, and even wards and potions if the one who created them was paranoid enough, on them. The rings weren’t just something to use to seal one's mail or show off. Each ring had their own magical signature so it is easy to figure out if it is from the Lord or someone acting at it. Any mail sent to the Ministry with a Lord or Pureblood Family seal on it had to be checked for authenticity after someone who wanted to get pay back at a pureblood family sent a fake confession from the Lord of the Fawley family and almost got him sent to Azkaban, had it not been for his consent to the use of Veritaserum during his trail. Not only did the rings stop people from posing as the Head of any Pureblood or otherwise prominent Families, most also protected the wearer from potions and poisons. The seal also was needed in any important documents at Gringotts as well.

“However, the Chaus Family was very secretive. The one who made their Lord ring made sure that there was no way for anyone to use any type of compulsion magic, potions, rituals, against the wearer and that no one would be able to get inside the wearer’s mind. How they did it, what spells or runes or potions on the ring, has been unfortunately lost in time. Us Goblins certainly wouldn’t mind knowing it to keep would be thieves from trying anything. However, I don’t think you will need much help in blocking someone from your mind once you learn about Occlumency and how to put up defenses around your mind with that natural Occlumens trait you have.” Ragnok stated, remembering all the natural abilities the last of the Potter Family had which was quite a shock. Normal wixen or even creatures didn’t have as many abilities as he had naturally and the goblin didn’t even know what the boy could do with his creature inheritance. Whatever it was, it must be powerful. Even with Harry holding back his magic from showing, Ragnok could see he was incredibly powerful. “All of the rings have wards against anyone taking them off besides you and if you wish, all you have to do is think of them being invisible and the wards on them will keep them unseen from everyone but those you tell. However, if someone does grab your hand they will be able to feel them.” 

Harry nodded, a small smirk forming on his lips. He was glad that the goblins didn’t have to inform the Ministry of someone claiming the lordships. Sure, they were supposed to, but the goblins absolutely hated the Ministry who kept labelling them as creatures and defining them as less than Wixen. It was the Ministry’s fault for not making sure all their i’s were dotted and their t’s were crossed when dealing with the goblins. The tricky creatures were certainly willing to find any loophole in the treaty they had with them. They hadn’t put a clause on their list of demands, so the goblins were more than happy to go behind their backs. Especially for some who not only had the blessings of Death, Lady Magic, and Lord Chaos, but also treated them with respect they deserved, like equals. The only one who would be informed of something happening with the Potter Estate would be Dumbledore, who was no longer needed as Harry’s magical guardian as he was an emancipated minor. 

Eventually Dumbledore would come rushing into Gringotts demanding an answer as to why he was no longer in control of the Potter Estate and Ragnok would take the utmost pleasure in telling him that upon further inspection he was not listed as one of the chosen guardians by Harry’s parents. Which was the truth. The first thing Harry did when he took over as the Head of the Potter Family was ask if there was a will made by his parents and had it unsealed from where Dumbledore had locked it in the Potter Family Vault. A copy of it had already been sent to Madam Bones, the Head of the Auror's, because his parents revealed their Secret Keeper in their will, and it wasn’t Sirius but rather the rat. 

Harry couldn’t wait until the information was put out to the public since Dumbledore had been one of the witnesses of the will. Along with the copy of the will, Harry sent the memory of someone using the Imperius Curse on Sirius to make him go after Wormtail so that he could be free from Azkaban and not a wanted fugitive from the law like he would be. Of course, Harry was smart. He had sent a letter with both things that was written out to make it seem like the person writing it was the wizard who found out about the abuse Harry was receiving from the Dursley's and took him away. The memory explained away as the wizard going through Harry’s mind to see everything to find out how far the abuse went back. Eventually he would have to find someone to play the concerned wizard who saved him, but he didn’t care much. He would figure that out when it came. There were several tactics he could use to put off a meeting with Madam Bones, or whoever would want to make sure he was in a safe place, so he would do so. 

The only bad thing about the memory was the fact that it would throw Hagrid under the bus. However, if Hagrid knew about what Dumbledore was planning any kindness Harry felt towards him would be negated. Either way Dumbledore’s popularity would take a hit, even if no one believed the voice of the person who forced Sirius to give him up to Hagrid was actually him. Dumbledore had sent an innocent man to Azkaban. He allowed an innocent man to be villainized by everyone in the Wixen World. Dumbledore had known Sirius wasn’t the Potter’s Secret Keeper, he allowed there to be no trail where Sirius could request Veritaserum to prove his innocence. There was a possibility that Dumbledore would be able to spin it, lie and say how everything back then was so hectic and that he hadn’t realized what was going on until it was too late, but he wouldn’t be able to stop the hit completely. If he went that route there was still the fact that he kept quiet about it for ten years. For ten years an innocent man has been rotting away in Azkaban. It would be made much worse since Sirius had taken up Lordship of the Black Family a week before the Potters were killed and he went after Wormtail, since his parents had been killed in an attack and it was learned that Orion made him the heir since Regulus went missing. From what Harry knew, Orion wasn’t such a great person and had let his wife burn Sirius off the tapestry but he refused to fully disown Sirius, and after Regulus disappeared, he changed their will. Despite everything, how much he hated his son, he wanted to save the Black Family and the only other Blacks were females and couldn’t claim Lordship. 

Oh, what Harry wouldn’t do to be a fly on the wall of Dumbledore’s office when the man hears word on not only his disappearance but also this. The thought made him almost crackle out loud, however, the vicious smirk on Harry’s face told the goblin exactly what he was thinking about. The entire time since the letters were sent, Harry was darkly amused. Ragnok had not been able to hold back his laughter when he realized that this was only the first step of Harry’s plan to destroy Dumbledore’s reputation. It was well deserved in the goblins opinion, though he didn’t completely understand why Harry wanted to watch the Headmaster of Hogwarts suffer so badly. Which he would when his popularity as the Leader of the Light takes a hit. Ragnok knew just what Dumbledore would think about that. The goblins had always been able to see beyond the mask the Headmaster wore so well.

There was a knock on the door to the conference room drawing both of the occupants out of their thoughts. Harry immediately sat up as straight as he could, as did Ragnok. Since Ragnok didn’t know how long it would take to get the Lordships in order and go over the Estate information for every family Harry was the Lord of, they had immediately gone to the nicest conference room in this branch of Gringotts to do it all while they waited for the Delacour's to show up for the meeting. Much to Ragnok’s shock and delight, he didn’t really have to go over much in regard to how Family Estates were run since Harry already had a good handle on how it all worked. When the Head Goblin had questioned how he knew so much but never had actually gained or known about his Lordship rings before, Harry had simply stated that there were some books at Hogwarts that Dumbledore didn’t realize were more powerful than they looked.

“Come in,” Ragnok spoke after he snapped his fingers which caused all the paperwork on the table to get back in order, which had gotten rather messy while Harry and him were looking over everything. The papers went back to their allotted books for each family estate book. 

The door opened and not a second later four people walked in. Not including the goblin who simply peeked his head in and gave Ragnok a nod and spoke something in gobbledygook before quickly leaving. The look that went between the two goblins didn’t go unnoticed by Harry but he didn’t quite understand it much to his irritation. It was obviously something about him if the way Ragnok looked at him afterwards was any clue.

Harry quickly stood up looking at the small family that had come to see him, however unknowingly it had been on their part. He immediately recognized which one was Fleur. Despite the fact that she had been seventeen when Harry had first met her, he had absolutely no doubt which one she was. Plus the bond he felt towards her made it even more apparently. She was currently fourteen but she still had her long silky blonde hair and blue eyes. The older veela looked very close in age with Fleur, her mother he presumed. The youngest of the group was obviously Gabrielle Delacour, only five years old, but she looked much different than she did when she was eight. It was really strange that Gabrielle had looked like a clone of Fleur but now her hair was as black as her fathers, the blonde veela hair nowhere to be seen. Harry remembered saving Gabrielle from the merpeople who really didn’t want to let her go. He honestly didn’t understand why she looked so different now. He supposed he would have to ask if he wanted an answer. 

“Papa. Mama. This is Harry Potter.” Harry jolted slightly at Fleur’s introduction of him to her parents. The smile she gave him was a motherly one, which shocked him. The way her eyes glinted with knowledge keyed him into the fact that she knew more about what was going on than should be possible. Harry barely managed to keep his expressionless mask on at the shock he felt. He knew that people knew what he looked like, mainly because Dumbledore hyped up the whole Boy-Who-Lived thing. His lightning bolt scar was a symbol of everything Light and good, despite him not actually being light and all that good. He also knew that his green eyes were almost a dead give away to anyone who had known his mother but to his knowledge, the Delacour's had never met his parents. They were French, and France had its own Wixen Government and school. 

“I think I am beginning to understand why we were called here.” The father stated looking between Fleur and Harry with a gentle smile. “Lord Merle Delacour. It is very nice to meet you, Mister Potter.” Instead of offering his hand to shake, he nodded to the younger wizard.

“Actually, Lord Delacour, it is Lord Chaus. Hadrian was just emancipated and gained his multiple lordships just an hour ago.” Ragnok corrected him instinctively. Goblins were just as sticklers for using the proper names and titles for people they did business to as the Pureblood Wixen were. However they continued to use proper names and titles even when those doing business with them were especially rude. In their mind, it was a way of showing that they were more superior than the wixen who refused to show them respect. Harry had given the Head Goblin leave to call him by his given name. It wasn’t something many goblins could say they achieved so he was proud of himself. And it was considered an achievement for a goblin to get respect from any creature who wasn’t a goblin, especially a wixen. The fact that it was enough respect to be able to use their given name as an equal, made it all the more sweet. 

If the Delacours were surprised by the name or Harry’s emancipated status, none of them showed it. “Please have a seat.” Harry motioned to the table before retaking his own seat. It was only after everyone was seated that the meeting continued.

“Lord Chaus, forgive me for being forward, but why did you call us here?” Merle questioned, sitting up straight in the seat that was provided for him. He seemed to be on edge. Though there was a knowing glint in his eyes as well, he didn’t seem to understand as much as the mother who was staring at Harry and then glancing around the room like a mother bear ready to jump up and protect him should anyone try to harm him. It was strange to say the least. Harry wasn’t used to anyone looking at him with such emotions.

“I believe your daughter must have told you about me and you have some understanding of why this meeting was called. I will explain it better but for my safety, I want you all to vow to never communicate what you hear in this room to anyone, in any form. It is very important that this knowledge does not get into the hands of people who will most certainly use it against me if they knew.” Harry told him, glancing over at Fleur. She seemed like she knew him, more than she should considering they hadn’t met until his fourth year at Hogwarts. Harry wasn’t quite sure what this whole magical protector thing was, but her protective emotions that flashed through her eyes, and the non-surprised looks from Mister and Missus Delacour was very telling in itself. 

Fleur didn’t hesitate to make a vow to him, followed by Missus Delacour, and then a somewhat confused Mister Delacour. The vows were all worded much like Ragnok’s vow was, making it nigh impossible for them to leak the information. Harry observed the quartet family for a moment longer after Gabrielle said the words in French, a bit stumbled upon but the magic worked all the same. The words weren’t really all that important, it was the intent behind the words which she apparently understood enough for a child only five years old. 

Nodding to himself, Harry began to try and explain it. “Physically, I am eleven, but mentally I aged to fifteen before I died during a battle between Light and Dark.” He started, a small frown forming on his face as he remembered just how closely he had come to losing Sirius. “I don’t know if you know this because you don’t live in Britain, but in our ministry there is the Department of Mysteries. Inside that department is a veil known as the Veil of Death. I fell into that after narrowly avoiding the killing curse. Death took pity on me, as did Lord Chaos. They gifted me a second chance, throwing me back into this time, the day I learned that magic was real and not a muggle figment.” 

“What do you mean by that? You couldn’t have possibly only found out about magic at eleven! All the reports say you grew up knowing of magic, happy and healthy but kept out of the spotlight!” Fleur cried, outrage clear in her voice. Harry’s frown only deepened. 

“Unfortunately, the newspaper lies. I was raised, though that certainly isn’t the word I would use for it, by muggles after the death of my parents. I grew up thinking my parents were good-for-nothing drunkards who died in a car crash, almost taking my life with them. Any time I did accidental magic, I was beaten for it. I didn’t learn about actual magic or Hogwarts or any of it until the caretaker of Hogwarts came to collect me to get my first year school stuff, mind you he shouldn’t have been able to do that since he isn’t a licensed teacher nor is he allowed to do magic as he was expelled from Hogwarts. I think it is fairly obvious just looking at me just how badly I was neglected by the people I was left on their front porch in the middle of the cold November night. They really are the worst sort of muggles, unable to accept anything they believe shouldn’t be possible or evil. Think that you can beat that out of someone.” Harry sneered the last two sentences, disdain clear with every word. Oh, Harry hated his so-called family. They had honestly gotten off easy in his mind. He would have absolutely loved to torture them for hours until their brains were absolute mush, deserving for such people unlike Neville’s parents, but at last he hadn’t had the time. Harry didn’t know if his dark spells would set off the wards that Dumbledore had put up around the Dursley Household since there were no blood wards to speak of. Harry’s mother may have died and made it possible to have blood wards surrounding the place he lived but that was only if the people he had been left with accepted him as part of their family and not a freak burden they had to live with.

“They abused you?” Fleur and Missus Delacour snarled. They both jumped off their chairs as white wings exploded from their backs. It briefly reminded Harry about his own wings, hidden from sight by his magic. What did strike Harry as odd, though, was the fact that they didn’t turn into harpies like the veela from the Quidditch World Cup had. Their faces didn’t transform into cruel-beaked bird-like heads, their wings weren’t scaly, and actually looked like they would feel like silk if touched, and there were no balls of fire in their hands. It made him wonder if it was because of their non-pure veela bloodline, Fleur was a third generation veela to his knowledge, or if it had to do with how angry they were. 

“Abused? I would use the word tortured since that is more accurate. From the time that I was four, I was forced to do all the chores in the house. If I burnt the food while cooking, I was beaten until I was black and blue, and then sent to my room, which was a cupboard under the stairs, without food for weeks on end. Not that they’d ever give me anything more than bare scraps. If it wasn’t for the snakes and spiders bringing me food occasionally at night when they wouldn’t be seen, I’d be worse off. I suppose my magic was also a big help. And Chaos forbid, I do accidental magic. They, in their own words, were trying to beat my magic out of me. It wasn’t until I started primary school that I learned my name wasn’t Freak or Boy. Once, my aunt threw hot oil on me for burning the fish I was cooking. I was five. The burns were bad. Honestly, if it wasn’t for my magic, I am sure it would have killed me, not to mention other things they did.” He stated, glowering at the hard oak table. Harry could still remember the feeling of his skin melting the moment the hot oil was thrown at him. The intense burning pain. The agony of his magic rushing through his veins trying to keep its host from dying. His magic trying to repair the damage he was put through. It had only been five months after he was forced to start cooking every meal at the house. However, despite its best efforts, pure magic alone couldn’t fix all the damage done. His eyesight had been too badly damaged that he could only see a world of blur without his glasses now, and they weren’t even the right prescription to begin with. Just a pair of glasses that Petunia had picked up from a second hand shop when she realized her slave was basically blind. 

“Where?” Fleur hissed out. Flames licked up and down her hands dangerously. There was so much murderous intent in her eyes that it absolutely shocked him. No one had ever shown much care when he brought up the neglect and abuse from the Dursley's. Maybe mentioning one of the worse things that happened to him wasn’t the smartest choice. 

“Currently…” Harry tilted his head in thought. “I’d assume they are in cells at the Auror Department telling the interrogators every single horrid detail of what they did to me, unable to lie or save themselves from the eventual punishment they will receive for it. I made sure of it, and a little payback of my own beforehand. I do hope the interrogator has a strong stomach.” He grimaced, knowing exactly what they would be forced to reveal about what happened to him. After he got into Hogwarts, it wasn’t so bad. They were frightened about him using magic against them and then about Harry’s ‘crazy insane murderous godfather’ after his third year. What happened to them now was up to the court system. All Harry cared about was the fact that he knew they would spend the rest of their lives in the same hell he went through, but worse since they would be sent to some kind of prison. If it was Azkaban, they wouldn’t have some of the protections against the dementors that Wixen naturally had because of their magic. Harry was personally leaning towards them ending up in the muggle prison system though. He wasn’t sure what the Wixen World’s view on child abuse was, but he knew what muggle society thought of child abusers. They were some of the worst scum in muggle society, and if they were sent to a muggle prison and asked why they were there, they would be unable to lie because of the curse he placed on them. The truth would once again be forced out of them. The only ones he made sure they were unable to talk to would be anyone on Dumbledore’s side, including the male himself and nothing, absolutely nothing could be done to fix it. Harry had Lady Magic and Lord Chaos’s favor, they wouldn’t stand for anyone removing that curse. Not even Dumbledore was strong enough to overcome them and if he tried, Harry would love to see the full force of two extremely powerful beings fall on the Headmasters head. 

Surprisingly, none of the Delacour's seemed at all bothered by the very dark, smug tone of voice Harry used when he told them of the little payback he had done. It spoke promise that what happened was far from good but also nothing less than what they deserved, however none of them blinked an eye at it. It seemed that even though they hadn’t a clue what he had done, they were all for it. Though Fleur looked like she was seconds from leaving the conference room and Gringotts stormed the British Ministry to dole out her own type of punishment to the Dursley's. The only thing that seemed to be stopping her was Missus Delacour’s strong grasp on her shoulder. The flames on Missus Delacour didn’t seem to burn Fleur at all, which made him wonder why. He didn’t know much about veela’s, they were very secretive, but he wanted to know. He hated not knowing something others did. That questioning line of thought brought him back to the reason why the Delacour's were called for a meeting in the first place.

“What is a Magical Protector?” Harry questioned, wanting the answer more than ever. If he was also eager to get off the subject of the Dursley’s, well no one could really blame him for it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Information about Veela and what a Magical Protector is.

“What is a Magical Protector?” That was the question that had been burning in Harry’s mind since he had seen it written on his blood inheritance test. A Magical Guardian was self explanatory, if Ragnok hadn’t already explained it. However a Magical Protector was vastly different. At least, Harry assumed so. The words felt different when spoken out loud, though Harry had never read anything that even vaguely mentioned it. There was no way of knowing if it was a Veela thing or a choice one could choose when they had a life debt to someone. 

“I think it will be best if I leave for this conversation, Hadrian.” Ragnok spoke up. “This parchment will map out your family tree once you put seven drops of blood on it. You can have it stored in one of your vaults before you leave or take it with you.” He slid the family tree parchment over to Harry before standing up from his place at the head of the table. It was something they had discussed while going over everything for his Lordships. 

As a Goblin, Ragnok understood that there were some secrets within a magical creature’s history and what they could do that were not to be shared with the world. He doubted the two Veela women, who kept glancing at him while sharing looks, wanted him there for this explanation. Besides, his only job here was to get the Delacour’s to this meeting, and he had done that. There were a lot of different things he had to do as the Head Goblin of Gringotts. Harry had only added more by asking him to get his best people to do an archive of everything in his multiple estates, yet another thing they discussed. Time was money for Goblins, and as the Head of this branch of Gringotts, his time was the most valuable. Ragnok nodded his head to the family before heading towards the door. However, before leaving, he snapped his fingers and gathered the Goblin record estate books leaving only the ones for Harry on the table along with his copy of the blood inheritance test. 

It was silent for a couple of seconds as the two Veela reverted back to their more human features, their wings disappearing, and sat down before Missus Delacour spoke up. “I’m sorry my dear, I forgot my manners. My name is Apolline Delacour, Fleur and Gabrielle’s mother. Please just call me Apolline.” Apolline smiled kindly at Harry. 

“Please call me Hadrian then. That is my real name I found out.” He didn’t feel close enough to her to allow her to call him Harry, which he decided to keep using as a nickname since he wasn’t used to his true name. Even his parents hadn’t used his full first name, always calling him Harry.

“Of course, Hadrian. Now, tell me, what do you know about Veela?” She questioned, a motherly look forming on her face. 

Harry’s head tilted to the side, a quiet hum leaving his lips in thought. What did he know about Veela? Honestly, it wasn’t that much. The bare minimum. There weren’t really many books in Hogwarts Library about the different magical humanoid creatures. Just a very small section meant to be used for research when it came to an assignment from Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry supposed he probably should have learned about them in DADA but there had never been any good teacher for that class except Remus and Imposter Moody. However, since Remus was too busy trying to catch everyone up on everything they missed, along with his monthly absences, they never learned everything they were supposed to. Imposter Moody, on the other hand, was a good teacher as well, but he mostly focused on the three unforgivables and not the creature side or even defending one’s self from the Dark Arts, except in the case of Imperius. Technically speaking though, Veela were one of the few humanoid creatures that were considered Light Creatures, Hermione had told him that, so there was a possibility they wouldn’t have been taught about them anyways. 

“Nothing really.” Harry admitted begrudgingly. He had so much to catch up on. So much to learn. He wanted to learn. Always had wanted to learn but first it was the Dursley’s yelling at him whenever he did better at school than Dudley, and then there was Ron. Harry hated feeling like an idiot because he didn’t know something. After all the time with his aunt and uncle and then Snape at school constantly telling him he was stupid, Harry was fed up with not knowing the answers to things. This time around he would make sure he knew everything and anything the world tries to throw at him. At least, he wouldn’t have Ron around keeping him from reading or doing his school work properly, nor his uncle locking up his school books so he couldn’t read them during the summer. There was still two months for him to begin teaching himself everything he should have known about the magical world in his first time through this all.

“Well, that can be seen as a blessing. There is a lot of bad information out there so it might be better you don’t know.” Fleur spoke up, drawing Harry out of his wandering thoughts. “The Council of Veela allowed books to be written that contained wrong information so the Wixen World wouldn’t know the truth about Veela’s If they did, it would be more dangerous for us.” 

Harry nodded. He could understand that happening. The Wixen World had a very bigotry outlook on anything they thought of as not normal, even if for the creatures it was something very normal. They also would take advantage of things in a heartbeat if there was a use. Their hatred against most magical creatures came from the fact that some of them were much more powerful than witches and wizards, so they did everything to beat them down. 

“The information out there says there are things called half-Veela, like I am thought as, and Quarter-Veela, what Fleur and Gabrielle are thought as. However, that isn’t true. Like any witch or wizard with creature blood who comes into an inheritance, if is normally all or nothing. There are some creature blood out there that can allow a witch or wizard a partial creature inheritance but that is even more rare than getting one to begin with. Veela are ones that are all or nothing.” Apolline continued, taking it slow so Harry could take in the new information. “Gabrielle has yet to come into her creature inheritance as a female has to be seven for the Veela inheritance to come out. We did a test on her when she was a baby though, and she will come into it. Male Veela have theirs at sixteen unless they are put through something that forces it to come out earlier.” 

“I thought there weren’t any male Veela?” Harry inquired. It had certainly been told to him before, by Hermione again. Veela were considered a female only creature race. Though, now that he thought about it, that would be very strange. The Delacour family laughed.

“One of the wrong information that will be found out there. Males are very rare and powerful which is why they are the most protected of our species. This is more due to the two different types of males: Dominate or Submissive, so they are very protected by the Council of Veela. The females of the race aren’t subjected to those instincts so they can’t be exploited while the males could be if they are submissive.” Apolline scowled. The very thought of someone using and abusing a male submissive Veela was one that sparked a lot of anger for any female Veela. They were the most vulnerable, but also the most powerful of the species when they had their mate by their side. Just because they were submissive in nature, didn’t mean they couldn’t put up one hell of a fight though. “Of course, it is very doubtful that you will meet a male Veela in Britain. They normally don’t stray from France where they have a lot of protections put in place by the French Ministry who work in tangent with the Council of Veela. France has always been very welcoming of creatures of all kinds, so long as they follow the laws of the Wixen Government and their own. They aren’t subjected to laws specifically made with them in mind, meant to put them down, like here. If a creature breaks the law, the French Ministry even allows the government of their kind to take over the proceedings, so long as it wasn’t anything too bad.”

Harry’s eyes widened. If that was true, France was like heaven compared to Britain. Not that Harry had any reason to doubt what Apolline was telling him. She wasn’t lying. Harry wasn’t sure how he knew that but he did. Britain was very backwards in their way of thinking when it came to creatures or anything that was considered Dark. With Dumbledore fanning the flames of Light versus Dark, it was no wonder things were so awful here. Dumbledore did away with things that went against what he believed to be right, what he believed should be Light. Everyone but him seemed to pay the price for that. While Dumbledore sat high up in his ivory tower, people were suffering. Harry was going to change that though. He would make sure everyone saw Dumbledore for what he really was, all in due time. 

“Does the French Ministry work with a creature known as the Sephiroth?” Harry couldn’t stop himself from asking. While he wanted to know more about Veela, and certainly wanted to know what a Magical Protector was, he desperately wanted to know if there were more like him out there. Of course, he was a Regiis Sephiroth, but to him it sounded like the ‘Regiis’ part was only a rank in the ‘Sephiroth’ race as a whole.

“Sephiroth? I’ve never heard of it. Why do you ask?” Merle inquired, straightening up his relaxed posture at the question. His eyes, that had started to daze out since he had heard this information recounted a million times, were suddenly sharp and attentive.

Instead of answering verbally, Harry slid his blood inheritance test over to Merle, giving his silent approval to the magic within the parchment so that all the Delacour’s, besides Gabrielle who was too young in his opinion, could read it. Fleur was immediately on her feet reading it over her father’s shoulder, ignoring the chiding of her mother. “Regiis Sephiroth? I’ve never heard of that before either.” 

“The way it sounds makes me believe the Regiis part of it is just a title in the Sephiroth race. Ragnok said there might be books in my vaults about it.” Harry frowned, not happy with the lack of information. He would need to figure out when he would have time to go through his vaults after the goblins did their archiving. The archiving would help tell him what vaults had books in it so he could start his search on possibly finding anything about his creature inheritance. The only vault they wouldn’t be able to archive was the one that Harry was most curious about. Ragnok had told him that the Chaus Family Vault was not accessible to any goblin and that he would have to make an appointment in advance to go into it for the first time. Apparently the entrance to the vault was right underneath the feet of everyone doing business at Gringotts, unknowing of the treasure trove beneath them. The Chaus Family, at least the head of the family at that time, had helped the goblin Gringott open up the first bank so the goblins wouldn’t start another revolution against Wixen, and he became the first patron to the bank. The mysterious person also kept the control of the bank in the Goblins hands when the Ministry decided they wanted to try and muscle in on it. At least, that was what Ragnok had told him.

Apolline was glaring at the copy of Harry’s blood inheritance test. More so the bottom of it that showed everything that had been put on him. She was internally grateful that those life threatening blocks, spells, and potions were off him, but she was enraged at whoever had put them on him. Not that it was hard to guess. “Is this inheritance a new thing or did it happen before you came back? Are there any distinguishing features?” Apolline asked, sliding the paper back to Harry before she accidentally ended up burning it in her anger. “Merle can ask around the French Ministry if you’d like, say he read it mentioned in an ancient text he bought at an auction so no suspicion will end up towards you. He might end up being able to find something if you have no luck with your vaults.” 

Instinctively Harry looked around the room suspiciously. Ragnok had told him that there were many privacy spells and wards that kept anyone from being able to even use an eavesdropping spell to overhear what was being spoken in this room, the reason why it was so expensive to hold meetings in. Harry wasn’t quite sure if he could trust the goblin purely on his word, knowing how tricky they could be. However, a moment later something strange happened. A burst of colors flashed before his eyes. The suddenness of it made him startle, jumping back a bit in his seat. The colors swirled in the air, many different colors. Well, actually most of them were blue, just different shades of it. The many colors were actually strings, Harry noticed after staring at them trying to distinguish one from another. They were weaved together like the most extravagant blanket Harry had ever seen, cloaking the entire room. Somehow, Harry honestly couldn’t say how, he knew that they were the spells and protection wards that Ragnok had told him about. Harry was able to read the magic and knew that no one but those inside could hear or see what was going on in the room. 

“Mage sight.” Harry muttered, remembering that it was an ability he had gained. Harry blinked a couple of times. Now that he no longer wished to know if there was magic around and that it did as it said, the colors disappeared leaving him with a bad headache. Harry shook his head before looking at the Delacour’s, who were staring at him with worry. “Sorry. No. This didn’t happen before I came back in time. I would assume it happened while I was… getting revenge on my family before I came here.” Harry swiftly stood from his seat and unbuttoned the top buttons of his transfigured cloak, allowing it to fall to his waist where a belt held it up. The last thing Harry wanted to do was fix the clothing again. 

“I woke up with this marking. Ragnok explained that it is the marking of someone blessed by Death, Lady Magic, and Lord Chaos. This shows I am a Death Master. The wings are the symbol of Lady Magic. The fact that they are black instead of grey shows Lord Chaos.” Harry ran his finger over each marking as he explained them, trying his best to ignore the reactions from the Delacour’s seeing the many scars and how emaciated he looked from his time with the Dursley's. He couldn’t though. Gabrielle hid her face against her father’s arm, crying. Merle was trying to look anywhere but at him, his hands clenched into fists showing the anger he somehow managed to keep off his face. Fleur and Apolline looked ready to kill. It was strange to Harry. No one had ever cared for Harry like this before. Well, his parents had, but he wouldn’t know that if it was for Death giving him the memories that he had seen with his eyes before he was sent back. 

Harry forced his eyes away from the family, instead thinking about his wings. He could feel them. The magic of them drummed underneath his skin, not all that happy that they were locked up. Harry didn’t know how to make them reappear but tried what he did at the Dursley's. Closing his eyes, Harry thought of the black wings. The warmth of the flames that they were covered in but never burned him. The silky feeling of the feathers underneath his fingertips. The weight of them on his back, not painful but different. How powerful he felt when they erupted from his back the first time.

The change wasn’t that painful, even as the wings seemed to burst through his skin and unfurled down his back. Harry’s magic coursed through his veins in all its power before he reeled it back in until it was just subtly there. He only opened his eyes when he felt the silky feathers and the warmth of the flames. The first thing he saw were the Delacour’s staring at him with awe, though mixed with the horror they felt at his abysmal physical state. 

“The wings are the only thing I noticed before I made them disappear and left that house.” Harry told them, glancing back at his wings. They looked exactly how he remembered them. The wings really did look intimidating. They were larger than Harry, presumably so he could take flight with them, and the power they radiated couldn’t be ignored. The fact that the feathers looked like they were actual blades instead of the silk touch Harry felt when he ran his fingers through them, didn’t help lessen the intimidation. What did strike Harry as odd, now that he was actually able to pay full attention to the feathers instead of controlling the family of three, was the fact that right before he touched them, they softened. Maybe they actually were as sharp as blades if anyone else touched them.

“Wow.” Fleur whispered. “That is something else entirely, Hadrian. They are beautiful!” 

“Your eyes, nails, and teeth are different.” Apolline noted, reaching into her handbag to pull out the hand-held mirror she kept with her at all times. She slid it over to him.

Harry frowned as he looked down at his hands. His nails were different. They were sharper and black in color. Reaching up he poked one of his fingers in his mouth, wincing as it hit something sharp and the taste of blood flooded his mouth. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed as he grabbed the mirror and looked into it. 

Two glowing, fiery green eyes stared back at him. It looked like his eyes held flames inside them, ready to burn anyone with their gaze. When Harry opened his mouth he saw four sharp teeth on the top row. The second incisors were sharp, but smaller than his canines which looked very reminiscent to vampire fangs, though they thankfully weren’t noticeable when he closed his mouth. He knew they were sharp enough to easily cut through flesh. His frown deepened as he stared at his reflection. A couple moments later he noticed an almost ethereal glow from his skin. It was strange, not natural at all, something akin to a monster.

“Don’t look so discouraged, Hadrian. You are perfect the way you are. Different doesn’t mean monster.” Apolline chided him gently, noticing the emotions that flashed through his eyes before he could cover them up. 

Harry simply shook his head, willing the wings away. It took less time this time, and once again hurt less. The fiery glow of his eyes died down, still there but less like flames and more an unnatural glow. His nails went back to their normal color, but kept the sharp shape. His teeth only looked slightly more sharp than they should. The ethereal glow didn’t leave him though. It enhanced his features, making him look better than he should considering how he hadn’t really had a decent meal since his parents died. Feeling very self conscious, Harry quickly pulled his transfigured robes back on properly and sat down giving the mirror back to Apolline. 

“But what is a Magical Protector?” Harry stressed the question. They had gotten way off topic, though Harry could only blame it on himself and his curiosity. 

“Well Hadrian. You see, when someone saves a Veela’s life, it creates a life debt. For normal Wixen, they wouldn’t be forced to accept the life debt unless the person asks for it. However, for Veela, who pride themselves on being able to protect themselves and their own, we have to accept it. In that life, you didn’t only save me from the maze, but Gabrielle from the merpeople, who would have killed her if you left her down there. The merpeople and Veela do not get along and have been constantly at war, not that it is known to the general public.” Fleur stated. Hatred flashing through her eyes as she looked over at her sister, as if reassuring herself that she was here, alive and safe. “With Veela siblings, the oldest takes on any lift debt the youngest finds themselves in, a punishment for not being able to protect them. In most cases the Veela becomes the slave to whoever saved their life, which is why we keep this all a secret, but in cases where the person who saved them is in constant mortal peril, we take the role of Magical Protector.” 

“A Magical Protector is there to provide you assistance in anything you need help with, magic or otherwise, and protect you from any and all danger. Think of them as a sword and shield. Veela Magical Protectors are very fiercely protective of their charges, as they rightfully should be. However, since Fleur is still a child herself, most of the responsibilities fall on me as the mother Veela of them both.” Apolline continued. “We will be responsible with making sure you are properly cared for and have all the knowledge that a young wizard your age should, and much more. Especially in the case of defense and attacking. I suppose you will say no to going to Beauxbatons instead of Hogwarts?” 

“I have business to attend to at Hogwarts.” Harry told her, his tone sharp. There was no way he wasn’t going to Hogwarts. He wasn’t going to hide away from Dumbledore like he was scared of him. He wanted to watch Dumbledore fumble around and get more and more angry at his puppet not longer being his puppet. He wanted to see just how desperate Dumbledore would get until he ruined his own reputation by his actions. Of course, Harry would help in ruining his reputation. Besides, Harry wanted to change as little about the timeline as possible. Going to Beauxbatons instead of Hogwarts would completely alter the course of time. 

“We figured as much. Fleur said she will transfer to Hogwarts.” Merle stated, disgruntled. “Is the education there as bad as it is rumored to be?”

Harry tilted his head. “Probably worse, but I have a way to fix it. I am the Lord of Hogwarts, since I am the Lord of each founding family. According to Hogwarts: A History, the Lord of any of the Founding families can make changes to the curriculum of the school so long as it is to make it better. I will just have to get in contact with the Board of Governors by owl to make the changes. I shouldn’t have to meet with them face to face, as the ring will tell them that it is true. Though perhaps it might be best if I find appropriate teachers that can be hired for the classes I want to implement.” Harry hummed out in thought. He was never happier that Hermione had forced him to help her study Hogwarts: A History then now. At the time he had hated it. Even when he was brainwashed by Dumbledore, Harry always thought that Hogwarts was lacking with its education. 

“I can help you find out the laws of Britain so you can figure out what classes can and cannot be implemented and help with finding new teachers. I have a lot of contacts at the French Ministry that can be of help.” Merle offered. Harry immediately nodded. That would be a lot of help. Harry didn’t know the first thing about education. Dumbledore had wiped his memories multiple times when he was found reading something he wasn’t supposed to. Ronald certainly helped keep him from books, constantly complaining about doing homework or distracting Harry whenever he wanted to read. Ronald literally complained any time they were anywhere near the library. Harry wouldn’t allow that to happen again, but he would admit when he needed help instead of trying to brute force everything like the last time, which always ended up with him and his friends in very bad situations time and time again

“Alright. I think we have a plan. You’ll be staying with us in France until it is time to go to Hogwarts. Your acceptance letter will be sent where you are so there is no need to worry about that.” Apolline gave him another motherly smile. “Do you want to do the family tree now, or once you get settled in?” 

Harry glanced down at the empty piece of parchment paper that he had forgotten about. He really did want to know more about his family and how each line connected to make him the Head of several families. It could wait though. Harry honestly was exhausted and just wanted to pass out. Whether that was because he had used too much magic with getting payback on the Dursley’s or simply from all the new information that was swirling in his head and all the things that he was trying to plan for, Harry really didn’t know. Standing up, he placed the pieces of parchment in the Estate book that was for the Potter’s. With a wave of his hand, all his estate books shrunk. Harry placed the books in the opposite pocket where his spiders were, not wanting to cause them anymore distress than he already had. 

The Delacour Family immediately understood that Harry was ready to leave, even though he didn’t verbalize it, and they all stood up. “We can use the floo in Ragnok’s office. He offered it during our meeting before you arrived.” Harry told them as he crossed the room to the door. Merle and Apolline shared a look of shock. No one had ever been given permission to use the floo network at Gringotts, at least not that they had heard of. Instead of questioning it, having seen the strange camaraderie between Ragnok and Harry already, they followed after. One of the Guard Goblin’s was waiting outside the room and immediately began to walk towards Ragnok’s office without a single word.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelia Bones was having a normal day at work... Until she wasn't. Dumbledore was having a happy day making plans for the upcoming school year, the year his puppet would finally go to Hogwarts, until.... he wasn't.

It was a fairly normal day in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. At least, the start of the day had been for the Head of the Department, Madam Amelia Bones. Amelia had woken up that morning how she had been woken up for the past two weeks, by her niece jumping on her bed chanting her name. Her wonderful niece, Susan, had been super excited since she had gotten her letter to Hogwarts. Susan couldn’t wait until she could go off to the school this year. Amelia honestly could hardly believe how the years had flown by, watching her niece grow up in the place of her parents who had unfortunately died during the first Wixen War against Voldemort. It had taken a while, and a promise of taking Susan to get her school stuff that weekend if she didn’t have work, for Amelia to calm her niece down. She had just enough time to make some toast before she had to floo to the Ministry. It was only just over an hour into her shift but it had been as she expected. Her desk was filled with paperwork she was steadily getting through, as it always seemed to be, but that was the life of the Head of a Department at the Ministry. 

Yes, everything seemed like it would be a normal, hardworking and stressful day for Amelia, as usual. At least, that was until she heard a scream emanate from the Auror’s Office. Without even thinking about it, Amelia was on her feet rushing out of her office which was thankfully right across from the Auror Office. Her wand was in her hand ready to react and subdue whoever was screaming if needed. The Auror Office was in complete chaos when she entered. People were trying to calm down the male who was crying and babbling incoherently, others rushed this way and that way to get the things yelled out. Surprisingly the scream wasn’t coming from someone who was under arrest like Amelia had assumed.

Amelia recognized the male as Damian Wells, someone who worked in the Ministry. He wasn’t someone Amelia knew well, though they had been in the same year at Hogwarts. She knew him well enough to know that him screaming and looking absolutely horrified, tears streaming down his face, was a very out of character thing. Wells had been a popular person in Hogwarts. A Gryffindor through and through, a stereotypical one at that. He always walked around the school like he owned it, dueled anyone who had an issue with him. He always got in a load of trouble but got praised for it by Dumbledore which made him have a big head. He was arrogant and proud, never letting it show that anything got to him. The fact that he had completely lost his composure shocked her. However, what she really couldn’t figure out was why someone from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes was here in the Auror Department trying to get help or why he was so inconsolable. 

As the name suggested, the DMAC normally dealt with magical accidents that were caused by young witches and wizards who performed accidental magic in front of muggles, mostly those who were muggleborn. They also had the occasional case of someone appariting in front of muggles or magical creatures ending up in the muggle world. It wasn’t often that they needed any help from the Auror Office. The last case was when Sirius Black had been found after murdering twelve muggles and one wizard, Peter Pettigrew. Since there hadn’t been any rise of a Dark Witch or Wizard since Voldemort, there weren’t any Catastrophes that needed both the DMAC and Auror Office. 

“Mister Wells, take a seat and calm down. We cannot help you if you can’t tell us what the issue is.” Amelia ordered, her voice loud enough to cut through the noise created by the chaos and stern enough to get everyone to listen and stop running around like chickens with their heads cut off. She waved to one of the newbie Aurors to bring a chair for him as she tucked her wand back into its holster on her wrist. Whatever had Wells so freaked out couldn’t be good and a bad feel settled into her gut as she watched him sit down cautiously. Amelia glanced at the Head of the Auror Office, Rufus Scrimgeour, moved to stand next to her giving a nod of thanks for Amelia’s quick calming of the Aurors. She made a mental note to order a drill for the Aurors to make sure they knew what to happen in a situation like this. 

“Now, explain what is going on and where.” Amelia ordered, looking back at Wells now that he had sort of composed himself. 

“Oh god! It’s horrible. What they did to him! And we can’t dissipate the magic. It is unlike anything we’ve dealt with before. This wasn’t accidental magic!” Wells began to get worked up again. He quickly shut up, taking in several deep breaths before nodding. “Number Four Privet Drive. It’s in the muggle suburb district. We got a notification about magic being performed there. When my team got there, there was a bloody smoke dragon made of magic in the sky. Muggles were everywhere looking at it. We had to call for backup. Then when we got inside things were worse. The muggle family who lived there was a mess. The son was passed out on the floor, the parents were desperately trying to get him to wake up. There is a rune burned into one of the walls that none of my team can even see, like magic itself is trying to cover up what it is. Then my team lead asked what happened and they started confessing! Confessing all the sick, demented things they did to Harry Potter! TO A BABY!” He cried out, outraged.

Amelia’s entire body tensed up as she stood ram-rod straight, masking her expression. “What do you mean? Harry Potter lives with a magical family, not muggles. His magical guardian confirmed it.”  _ Several times in the Daily Prophet _ , Amelia thought. She could still hardly believe that Dumbledore had been named the magical guardian of Harry Potter after the unfortunate deaths of his parents. Amelia had never been all that about Dumbledore, unlike most people. There was just something fishy about him that she had never liked. Besides, she thought it was stupid to put so much trust into one man, no matter if he dealt the final blow against the Dark Lord Grindelwald. Her dislike of him only grew when her brother and his entire family, along with her nieces parents, were murdered for being members of Dumbledore’s Order of the Phoenix. Amelia would never forgive him for creating the vigilante group that got her family murdered.

“The woman threw hot oil on a four year old because he burnt fish he was forced to make for dinner, Bones! Dumbledore’s a fucking liar. They admitted that they’ve had him since his parents died and have been treating him worse than a house elf. She found him in the morning after Halloween just laid on the steps sometime in the night like milk jugs.” Wells spat out. Amelia almost reeled back at the hatred in his voice when he cursed Dumbledore. For someone who was favored by the man and sung his praises for years, it was a shock. “Once they started saying that stuff, I was told to come here to get help.”

Amelia was just barely able to keep her stern, expressionless mask. That explained his lack of composure, if the rumors from school were true. There had been rumors about him being abused by his muggle parents for being magical. If that was true, added with him just having a child of his own, would make the lack of composure justified. Granted, it was justified anyways since a child was being abused. If there was one thing that Amelia hated most, it would be child abuse. She was also one of the many purebloods that believed no magical child should ever go to the hands of muggles. History spoke for itself that muggles almost always reacted badly when something happened that they couldn’t explain. The various muggle witch trials that ended up with dead wixen all over the world showed it. Then there was the fact that Dumbledore had lied to the entire Wixen World about where he was placed, something she really couldn’t understand. If there was one thing Amelia Bones could not abide it was lies and injustice. 

“Scrimgeour, pick a couple Aurors to come with. I’m going with you.” Amelia left no room in her tone for arguments, not that he would have argued with her anyways. As she was the Head of the DMLE and his boss, she was allowed to go out on Auror cases if she deemed it necessary. This was something she thought very necessary, especially since someone would end up being charged for what had happened to the only living Potter.

“Blight, Levisay, you’re with us.” Scrimgeour ordered in a gruff tone. “Boone, go to Gringotts and request the best curse breaker they have.” The three nodded to their orders. Amelia pursed her lips at the request but didn’t say anything. If a curse breaker was able to take down the magic so the statue of secrecy wasn’t broken, Minister Fudge would just have to deal with the cost.

Reluctantly Wells got back up and led them out of the DMLE towards the Atrium on Level Eight. None of them were looking forward to what they would learn. 

~~~

The scene that met the Aurors and Amelia Bones wasn’t as chaotic as they thought it would be. Amelia had envisioned members of the DMAC going back and forth. Oblivators there to whip the memories of the muggles who had seen magic. None of that was going on though. It seemed DMAC already had the scene cordoned off with wards that kept muggles from seeing anything out of the ordinary. 

After noticing the lack of chaos, Amelia noticed that she was standing on the street of a fairly nice looking neighborhood, by muggle standards that was. All of the house looked to be in perfect condition. The yards were bright green, cut nicely, and there were flowers planted in front of every house tended with care. Each house looked almost identical except for the color drapes in the windows. It was a place where one would think nothing bad could ever happen. The only thing different about one of the houses, which Amelia assumed to be Number Four Privet Drive, was what was above it. When Wells had said there was a smoke dragon in the sky, she thought he had been exaggerating, but he wasn’t at all. Flying above the house in symmetric circles up and down was an Eastern Dragon made of black smoke and magic. There were a couple of wizards that were flying on broom sticks near it trying to banish the magic that created it but it was of no avail. Everything they tried did nothing. The dragon still flew proudly in the sky above the oddly perfect looking house. 

Someone inside must have informed others that the Aurors were here because not a moment later an older, stern witch rushed out of the house. Amelia knew her well. She was the Head of the DMAC. All the department Heads had weekly meetings with each other and Minister Fudge to discuss what is going on with each department. Cyrena Deamonne was a pureblood witch who had moved here from the United States when she was only thirty. She was now sixty-seven and had been the Head of her department since she was forty. Cyrena was a witch Amelia never though she would see lose her composure. It would have been like seeing Minerva McGonagall lose her composure, as the two witches were very similar. Yet, Amelia easily noticed that Cyrena was shaking, her face was extremely pale and she looked like she could get sick at any moment. 

“They wouldn’t shut up so I had them silenced. I couldn’t take hearing any more of it.” Cyrena informed Amelia once she was close enough to the younger witch. “I’d suggest having Aurors who have a very strong stomach to get their statement. Three of my coworkers threw up just hearing some of it.” 

“Is it really that bad?” Amelia asked, a small gasp leaving her. Cyrena nodded grimly. 

“What happened in that house… I honestly don’t see how Mister Potter managed to live through it all.” The older witch shook her head in disgust, swallowing hard as she remembered the horrifying details that had been described to her by the fat whale of a male muggle and jealous bitter female muggle. It was all so terrible. To think a child had lived through that all. At least, she hoped he had since he was nowhere to be found in the surrounding areas. “We have better news regarding the dragon. Despite our best attempts to dispel it, we have been unsuccessful, but upon further investigation with the muggles who were taking pictures of it. It seems whoever created it had enough know-how about natural nature phenomena and somehow made it so that muggles only saw a… What they call a Kelvin-Helmholtz wave cloud? I’m not really sure but one of my people managed to copy the picture off one of the muggles cameras.” Cyrena pulled out a piece of parchment paper that had a picture on it. The house looked normal. There was no dragon flying around angrily. Instead there were just clouds. Instead there were just clouds above it in a circle creating the wavy effect in the exact pattern the dragon was flying in. 

“So magic wasn’t revealed to a bunch of muggles?” Scrimgeour questioned as he looked over Amelia’s shoulder to look at the photo. 

“It seems not to be the case. Whoever did it was powerful and knew how to manipulate magic well enough that only those who know about it can see it. We found that out when a squib who lives nearby came to ask what was going on. She knows the family, babysits for Mister Potter.” The older witch motioned to a lady who was talking to some of the DMAC members who had been brought out here for this case. It was certainly a special one. Between the dragon that was impossible to negate despite all their attempts, the rune that was still a complete mystery to everyone, the young boy who seemed to have lost all his memories except for an unhealthy fear of his parents once he woke up, the blabbering adults who have committed way to many crimes against a child to fathom, and the mystery of the Boy-Who-Lived and his awful living conditions. It was a case that wouldn’t soon be forgotten, if it ever was. 

“We sent for a curse breaker from Gringotts to try and help with the magic used. Have they said anything about where Mister Potter went or who took him?” Amelia inquired, worried for the boy. He was only eleven, just as old as her niece. The thought of him being in a possibly worse situation made her feel panicked. Subconsciously Amelia thought of Susan being in his place, which was very possible had she not been alive since Dumbledore was the next one written down as her niece's magical guardian. A shudder went down her spine. Amelia just wanted to make sure Harry was alright and had a safe place to live and get proper medical treatment if he needed it.

“Not a word. If that curse breaker is able to figure out what the rune is, I wouldn’t be surprised if it has something to do with them spilling their guts and keeping them from speaking about things the person who put it there doesn’t want them to.” Cyrena stated, frowning. “Strangely enough they stop talking the moment one of the people working under me walks into the room, every single time. They refuse to look at him whenever he enters the room or answer anything he asks.” Which was something that made Cyrena very suspicious. The Dursley's were perfectly fine spilling their guts out to anyone who would listen but the minute Doge comes within hearing distance or enters the room or casts an eavesdropping spell, they immediately shut their mouths as if forced to by magic which is the only thing that makes sense. Though why Doge was the question Cyrena wanted an answer to. 

“I see.” Amelia pursed her lips in thought. “Scrimgeour, Levisay, you two should take the two adults into custody and interrogate them. The squib as well. If she babysat Mister Potter she should have noticed something was wrong. Blight, please take the child to Saint Mungo’s. He may be a muggle but they will be the only ones who can tell us if the magic placed on him to make him forget his memories can be reversed or not. Make sure they know he is a muggle though. The last thing we want is for them to end up hurting him accidentally. I’ll stay here and wait for Boone.” She ordered the three as she was in charge of the Auror side of the scene being the Head of the DMLE. 

“Has anyone gotten in contact with Dumbledore?” Amelia questioned. As Harry’s magical guardian he needed to be informed and questioned as to why he hadn’t known about his abuse. The several Daily Prophet articles that had quotes from the headmaster about how he visits Harry once a week if not more flashed through her head. Either it was a lie or Dumbledore knew what was happening to Harry and let it continue. Amelia swore she would get to the bottom of it. 

There was a pop indicating someone had apparited in making all of them turn around. Dumbledore was the one who apparited. He looked completely disheveled. The signature twinkle that was normally in his blue eyes was missing and his face was red. Amelia noticed as well that his grandfatherly smile was gone and in its place was a cold, expressionless mask that was a bit intimidating when you knew just how powerful the old wizard was. However, the intimidating was a bit off because he was wearing a ridiculous, gnarly bright blue robe that had glowing yellow stars all over it which made it very hard to look at him. “What on earth happened here?” Dumbledore demanded to know, glaring up at the threatening dragon flying above the house. The dragon suddenly stopped in its circle, turning to glare directly at the old fool. It let out a loud roar which almost made two of the four wizards flying above fall off their broomsticks. Suddenly the smoke dragon flung itself forwards, directly at the wizard. Dumbledore raised his arm conjuring up the strongest shield he knew but it did absolutely nothing to stop the purely magic dragon. It flew right through the shield, shattering it until a million pieces, and past right through the Machiavellian, narcissistic, sociopathic, nosy old coot before dissipating as if it hadn’t been there to begin with. 

Dumbledore let out a loud, rattling breathe, a small bit of fear rushing through his veins. A very cold feeling passed right through him. The power and anger of the dragon crashed through his entire system, a power he struggled to fight against. Dumbledore had absolutely no idea who would have been powerful enough to create something like it or why their anger was directed at him but he swore he would find out. He took the shape of the magic being a dragon as if the person who created it was mocking him. As if the person who created it knew something that no one else around here knew or understood the meaning behind it. Dumbledore did though, at least in his twisted mind. Although the dragon was Grindelwald’s symbol, Dumbledore knew it couldn’t be him. He had dealt with Grindelwald long ago and had no worries of the male doing anything against him.  _ Someone knows something they shouldn’t,  _ Dumbledore thought shaking in both anger and a bit of fear he would deny ever feeling. He vowed to make whoever not only took his pawn away but mocked him about his past pay for their crimes against him. Dumbledore wouldn’t just let someone destroy decades worth of careful planning. 

“Where is Harry?” Dumbledore asked, just barely keeping himself from yelling at the Aurors and members of the DMAC who all stared at him. He was barely keeping a hold from completely losing his composure. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that it would do him no good if they saw it after seeing him fail to stop the magic dragon.

“We do not know, Dumbledore. By the time DMAC got here, he was already gone and the family he was left with doesn’t have any answers about his whereabouts.” Amelia answered in a cold tone. Her eyes narrowed at the older wizards. She didn’t know why but there was just something off about the headmaster and his sudden appearance demanding answers he knew he had no right to learn because as far as she was concerned, this entire house was a crime scene and they were in the middle of the investigation. 

“I wish to speak with the Dursley's.”

“You know you cannot. They are suspects in a very serious case and will be taken to holding cells where they will be interrogated. You should do that now.” The last sentence was directed to Scrimgeour, Levisay, and Blight. Amelia didn’t need to tell them twice. The three of them immediately turned on their heels and rushed towards the house feeling the growing tension between the most powerful wizard of their time and the head of their department.

“What did they do?” Dumbledore questioned, managing to sound genuinely worried instead of how pissed he actually was. 

“You know as well as I that we cannot discuss an open investigation. There is nothing you can really do here so it would be best if you left until you get a summons for questioning. And there will be one.” Amelia told him warningly as she stepped in front of him when he made to move to the house. She wasn’t going to let him contaminate the crime scene anymore than it probably was with the DMAC walking all over possible evidence. Just because the two seem to be cooperative for now, forced by magic or not, that didn’t mean it would always be that case. They could change their stories at any moment and if they were affected by magic it would be a good legal defense. Amelia wasn’t about to let child abusers get off on charges if what they were saying was the truth.

“I am his magical guardian, I deserve to know what is going on!” Dumbledore exclaimed. 

“You’re right. Then would you like to explain why you don’t know what is going on when you have told the Daily Prophet several times that you see him once a week, if not more?” She snapped back at him, glaring daggers at him. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped as two owls swooped down towards the two. One letter landed into Dumbledore’s hands, another in Amelia’s. 

Dumbledore paled dramatically as he quickly opened it. After reading it anger coursed through his veins. Someone was definitely messing with his plans and the worse thing was that they had his puppet in their hands. The letter was from Gringotts, informing him that he was no longer needed as Harry’s magical guardian and was no longer allowed to use the Potter Wizengamot seats nor have any hand in the Potter Estate. It also said the goblins would be collecting every material object that Dumbledore had taken from the Potter Family Vaults and returning it back to the rightful owner effective immediately.  _ Whoever had gone against him just signed their death warrant, _ Dumbledore snarled in his mind.

Amelia’s letter, on the other hand, was vastly different than the headmasters and much more concerning. The repercussions of what was written would shake the very core of the Ministry, their court proceedings, and how they handle orphaned magical children. Along with the letter and another piece of thick parchment paper was a vial with swirling silver liquid inside of it that was obviously memories.

_ Dear Amelia Bones, _

_ Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, _

_ By the time this owl reaches you, I am sure you will be standing outside a house on Privet Drive. Number Four Privet Drive to be exact. You have already learned what has happened to Harry Potter in that house. That much I am absolutely certain of. The abuse and neglect that he faced from the moment he was placed on the front porch early November 1st, the day after his parents were murdered before his eyes, is absolutely horrifying. Please allow me to set the scene of that night for you first so you can understand everything, since I doubt anyone but those involved have ever heard it. _

_ The night before, October 31st, is a night that everyone knows about but only theories of what happened in Godric's Hollow exist. That night young Harry Potter and his parents were having a peaceful night. Lily and James probably had inner fears about He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, who they knew was after them to kill their beloved son but the family was having a happy night trying to forget everything that was happening outside their cottage that was under the Fidelius Charm. Lily had just gotten baby Harry to sleep when they felt the Fidelius Charm shatter. James screamed for Lily to run, and she did, right up the stairs to the nursery where she put her son in his bed. James fell to the Killing Curse, and He followed her up the stairs. He told Lily to step aside and allow him to kill Harry but Lily, as any mother would, refused to step aside, and thus she fell as well. Even after viewing Harry’s memories of the event, it is still unknown how he survived the Killing Curse sent towards him.  _

_ Eventually Sirius Black ended up at the house and grabbed his godson heading outside to take him and call the Aurors. Hagrid was outside though and he was forced through the Imperius Curse to give Harry over to him. Hagrid ended up taking Harry to Dumbledore on this very street. It was around 1 a.m. when he arrived. That night was very cold and he was left on the front steps of Number Four Privet Drive wrapped only in a very thin black and a letter informing the Dursley’s who he was. The Dursleys, as I found out very recently, aren’t even blood related to Harry in any way, despite Petunia Dursley being adopted into the Evans family, which means he shouldn’t have been left with them. Truthfully, if it wasn’t for his magic keeping him warm, Harry Potter would have ceased to exist, passed away in the dead of night with no one the wiser until the next morning. He was left on the steps of two people who were known to hate magic. Albus Dumbledore placed him there before he was even his magical guardian in the eyes of the Ministry, and he knew it. I have proof which you now hold in your hands.  _

_ Enclosed in this letter is a copy of the original will and testimony of James and Lily Potter, witnessed by Albus Dumbledore. A will that he kept from being read because it would damn him. You will find some pretty interesting information in there about Sirius Black, who is currently wrongfully incarcerated in Azkaban for the past ten years. You do not believe me, I’m sure, but look at the will and then the memories that I extracted, willingly, from Harry, and they will tell you a very troubling story. _

_ I suppose I should explain how this all started and how I came across this information. Two weeks ago I ran into the young Potter at a store where he was being dragged around by that vulture who dares call herself his aunt. I recognized him from the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. It was bluntly obvious to me that the child was being abused and neglected. He looks like he is younger than nine, skin and bones, cuts and bruises over every inch of his skin. I approached him three days ago, asked him if he knew about the magical world. He did not so I explained it all to him. I explained who he was, what happened in the past, and then asked if I could see his memories to see just how far back the abuse went. What I uncovered was some pretty disturbing stuff regarding the night Harry’s parents died and Sirius Black, those are the memories I sent to you, as well as all the horrible abuse he was put through. I’d suggest you watch the memories very carefully. I didn’t send any memories of the abuse. It was too horrible to show but it started the moment he got there. His room is the cupboard underneath the stairs. He would be left in there for hours screaming his head off as a baby. When you go in there you’ll see the scratch marks and the blood that fills it. That isn’t even adding in all the abuse they put him through that he wouldn’t have survived if his magic wasn’t as powerful as it is. _

_ For now, Harry will be staying with me. Lady Magic has accepted me as his new magical guardian, as Dumbledore was deemed unfit. You can speak with Head Goblin Ragnok about it if you wish to have it confirmed. I will make sure his needs are taken care of. If you wish to contact us, send an owl under Harry’s name. For now, until I feel it is safe to reveal myself, I shall keep my name from you. Not because I do not trust you, but because I do not trust some of the people who work around you. Just know that no one will ever lay a hand on Mister Potter’s head again without paying the consequences. _

_ -Harry Potter’s Magical Guardian _

_ P.S. You won’t be able to figure out what the rune is, nor will it ever come off. Let’s just say it is a rune that calls Lady Magic to judge those who have abused one of her children and sends back karma onto them full force. It is old, ancient magic that was used back in the time when magical children were being abused and turned into obscurials. It isn’t against the law. Archaic Law 243, if you wish to look it up. Everything they did to Mister Potter will fall back upon them. I’d say may Merlin have mercy on their souls but they certainly don’t deserve it after everything they’ve done to him.  _

Amelia’s fingers were shaking as she pulled the second piece of paper out of the envelope. This one was a much thicker piece of parchment, used only for serious official documents. Just like the letter said, it was a copy of James and Lily Potter’s will and testimony, one which was supposed to be read a week after their death as per the law. It was officiated by Gringotts so there was no way it was a fake. 

She didn’t tap the box which would allow the voices of the two deceased heroes to be heard. Instead, Amelia read the transcription parts which was almost exactly what was said without all the familiar nuances that were surely in there for each person listed in the will. Written in fancy handwriting that Amelia recognized as Lily’s it said that Peter Pettigrew was their Secret Keeper and should anything happen to them, it should be blamed solely on him and he was the traitor if something did happen to them. Amelia’s eyes darted to the bottom of the page and a shaky breath left her. Albus Dumbledore’s signature was at the bottom in the witness area, as were the two Longbottom’s who had been cursed into insanity the night after October 31st. 

“What have you done, Dumbledore?” Amelia whispered looking up from the paperwork in her hands. She almost couldn’t believe it but she had no other choice. 

If Dumbledore had heard her, Amelia wasn’t certain since he apparited away right after. Amelia felt sick to her stomach, even more so that she had before. It seemed like today wasn’t going to be a normal, average day for Amelia Bones after all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three days since Harry arrived at the Delacour's. He sees a Healer but something even more shocking is revealed.

France was much different than Britain was. Obviously the language or the culture of it all, but it was also the Wixen counterparts of them. To Harry, it was almost like viewing night and day. Night being Britain, and day being France. Britain’s Wixen World was still living in the medieval ages, while France had embraced the muggle world, to an extent of course. While Diagon Alley looked like it belonged right in the middle of ancient times, France’s equivalent  Place Cachée looked like it could fit right in with most muggle shopping centers. If it wasn’t for all the magic and the vastly different things up for sale, Harry would have sworn that a muggle could walk on the streets of Place Cachée and not notice anything different. 

It wasn’t even just that the French Wixen weren’t living in the past anymore, like the British Wixen. Back home, everywhere in the Wixen World there was a deep oppressive darkness that hung over everything and everyone. People didn’t seem to notice it, at least those who weren’t directly affected by it, but Harry had noticed it right away. The moment he stepped into Diagon Alley the first time around, even though he was in awe by all the magic, Harry noticed it. He saw it in the way the Wixen treated the Goblins. The way people would avoid some of the people in the crowd who looked just a bit too different from everything else. Hogwarts was the worst of it. The darkness there was almost suffocating and only got worse each year. Harry had never been sure if it was just because of the first war with Voldemort or if it went much deeper and farther than that.

France was much different. It was lighter than home had ever been. It didn’t have that darkness looming around every corner waiting for you to put your guard down so it can pop out and murder you. It didn’t have the oppression feel anywhere Harry had been. Although Harry didn’t, he felt like he could relax for the first time in public when they had gone to Place Cachée to get him new clothing three days ago. Harry’s new clothing had been a huge debate between him and the Delacour Family who had wanted to pay for everything he needed. In the end, very begrudgingly on Harry’s part, the Delacour’s ended up paying for his pants, shirts, and robes, while he paid for his underwear, shoes, socks, and other things that caught his eye while they were shopping. The entire time Harry had looked around paranoid, waiting for someone to recognize him as Harry Potter. Yet, if anyone had they didn’t come up to him and it hadn’t been put in the papers.

Despite the argument over clothing, Harry had found a place within the Delacour Family in the three days that he had been in France with them. It was a huge adjustment going from living in the smallest bedroom of Number Four Privet Drive to living in such a huge manor that Harry really didn’t understand why any family of four would need that much space. It was an even bigger adjustment being around a family that genuinely seemed to care about him. At first, Harry had only thought that they cared about him because of the life debts that Fleur was being forced to pay due to her Veela inheritance but Merle was quick to sit him down and have a heart to heart discussion about it when he realized why Harry was so distant from them. Out of everyone in the Delaour Family, Merle was the only one who wasn’t technically held by any magic forcing him to be kind to Harry. He wasn’t a Veela, so he wasn’t forced by his blood and magic to accept Harry into the family. However, he was a father and he had told Harry if anything had happened to him and his wife, he would hope someone would step up for his daughters. He had told him that absolutely no one deserved the pain and torment that Harry received at the hands of the Dursley’s, and that he was more than happy to provide all the love, care, and nurture that Harry needed, so long as the young wizard was willing to accept it. Merle also further explained that the Magical Protector Bond didn’t force someone to care about you or be kind to you. All it forced was the person who owed the life bonds to provide the assistance needed to the one they owe it to. That was what put Harry’s mind at ease.

Still, it was very hard for Harry to realize and understand that none of the Delacour’s had any ill-will to him. Not after everything he learned about the potions and bindings he was under his first time around. Forced upon him by the very people he thought cared about him the most. The betrayal from Ron, Ginny, and Molly Weasley was hard to come to grasps with. Especially when added with Dumbledore’s betrayal. Harry had realized just how deep Dumbledore had dug his claws into his life, playing him as a puppet for years. It was understandable for it to be hard to trust people again. 

A heavy sigh left Harry’s lips as he looked outside the garden from the balcony attached to his rooms. The gardens were a place he had spent a lot of time over the past three days, gardening to get his mind off everything much to the horror of the House Elves who worked under the Delacour Family. If he wasn’t in the gardens familiarizing himself with all the magical plants, he was in his rooms. Yes, rooms as in plural. Harry still didn’t understand why he needed an entire suite all to himself. He would have been perfectly fine with a bedroom as small as the one the Dursley’s had given him after the letters from Hogwarts first started to appear, thank you very much. Yet now he had a massive bedroom, almost as big as the Dursley’s entire house, a bathroom that was to die for, a closet large enough to hold way more than the clothes that had already been bought for him. That would have been way more than enough considering how Harry didn’t know what to do with so much space but he also had a living room which housed a large bookcase that was already filling with books from the Delacour Library he was borrowing and ones he bought, and a smaller office-like room for doing the work the Delacour’s decided he needed to do to learn more about the Wixen World, and French. The balcony was attached to his living room area and overviewed the entire gardens. 

Since Harry was going to be living in France when he wasn’t at Hogwarts, it was decided he needed to learn the language. Well, more like Harry himself had decided that after the first trip to  Place Cachée when he couldn’t understand a single word spoken to him when it wasn’t spoken in English. Just because Harry wanted to learn, didn’t mean he was having any fun doing it. There were a few things that they had gotten to help aid him in learning, but much to Harry’s dismay, there was no magical anything that would allow him to learn the language at the snap of a finger. For the past two days, an hour a day, Harry learned the basics of the language feeling very much like he was back in primary school. He hated it but it was a necessary evil. Harry would much rather be here than in Britain where Dumbledore was no doubt looking for him like the rest of the Wixen community there. The headlines coming from the Daily Prophet would be amusing if it wasn’t for the simple fact that they were blasting his abuse everywhere. 

“Hadrian, are you ready?” Harry immediately tensed up at Fleur’s gentle voice calling him out to him from the door of the balcony. The seemingly innocent question should have meant no harm but to Harry it did. Honestly, Harry didn’t think he would ever be ready for what was about to happen. It was the day after the Delacour’s had brought him home that they had told him how important it was for him to see a healer. Just hearing the few things that Harry had told them had happened to him, and then seeing the abuse manifested on his body when he showed them his wings, had them extremely worried about their health. It had been an argument and straight out battle for the past three days than he had been here. Them trying to get him to see reason about how important it was and him adamantly denying he needed any sort of treatment. In his mind, he had lived perfectly fine the first time he had done it all. There was no reason for him to see a Healer. Besides, Madam Pomfrey didn’t seem at all alarmed the many times he was in the Hospital Wing. He couldn’t say for a fact that she knew he was being abused but one would think if anything was wrong it would have come back in some of the scans she did whenever he ended up there. Sure, there were constant aches and pains but Harry was used to it. 

It wasn’t until Gabrielle came crying to him just the other day about how she wanted her big brother to be okay that he finally caved. Though if anyone asked he would adamantly deny that it was because she was crying and say that the young girl didn’t already have him wrapped around her tiny fingers. In Harry’s defense, he had always wanted a younger sibling. One he could take care of and protect from everything. Of course, he didn’t wish to have siblings in the Dursley Household. Harry would never wish anyone to live in that house, not even his worst enemy. However, sometimes in the dead of night when he couldn’t sleep, Harry dreamt of a different universe where his parents didn't die. Where his family had never been targeted by Voldemort. Better yet, a universe where Voldemort didn’t exist at all. In this figment alternate universe, Harry had two younger siblings. Strangely one was always a male twin of his, the other one flipped from a sister to a brother. Harry always hyper-focused on the twin in his fantasies of a happy life with a family who loved him and a twin who was as close to him as Fred and George were. It was almost as if he could feel the bond between him, though this twin never existed.

“Do I really have to?” Harry questioned, his voice hardly above a whisper. It didn’t matter how quiet his voice was though, Fleur had heard him. 

“Well, you know that none of us can or will force you into it, Hadrian, but it is for the betterment of your life. I think your parents would be happy if you did it. Your mother was all about bettering one’s health. At least, that is what I heard. She made potions and spells that helped infants and children in the beginning of life.” Fleur stated as she leaned against the balcony next to him. Harry froze slightly before relaxing. He had been told about it before by Remus. It was one of Merle and Apolline’s main points when they were arguing about it. The issue for them was that Harry didn’t have any form of attachment to his parents. He didn’t have any memories of either of them. He was only one when they died, after all. He had spent ten years believing that they were nothing but drunks who killed themselves in a car crash while driving drunk and almost killing him in the process. He had those memories now and knew how much his parents loved him but he still didn’t have any attachment to them. 

Harry loved the idea of his parents, but the fact of the matter is he knew hardly anything about them. Well, hardly anything about his mother. What he knew about his father wasn’t good. The Marauders, despite their own thoughts on it, were bullies. James, his father, and unfortunately his godfather were the worst of the worse before they got their act together. Every time Sirius had brought up stories about his Hogwarts day, Harry always got a sickening feeling in his stomach. The Marauders weren’t the heroes that Sirius made them out to be, they were villains that disgusted him. They were only children though and Harry knew from experience just how terrible children could be, so Harry tried not to let his bitterness over his own bullying get in the way of trying to connect with his father and Sirius. Harry, like any child wished his parents were proud of him but unfortunately he was almost certain neither would approve of the darkness that was inside of him. 

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get this over with.” Harry grumbled pushing those thoughts away not wanting to dwell on just how disappointed his parents would be with the plans growing in his mind. They certainly wouldn’t be happy with his want to destroy everything Dumbledore had created. They worshipped the ground Dumbledore walked upon. Harry pushed himself off the railing of the balcony heading into his living room. 

After a brief moment to check on his spiders and the three new snakes he acquired at a pet shop in Place Cachée, much to Apolline’s horror and Merle and Fleur’s utter amusement, Harry finally let out a loud sigh glancing at Fleur. “Fine. Let’s go but if this gets out, it’s on you guys.” That was such a weak reason that Harry had given for why he didn’t want to do this. Weak because he knew there were ways to keep someone from talking about anything with a vow or contract.

“Like Papa would ever allow that to happen. Besides, he made the Healer sign the contract you two drafted up. They cannot talk or otherwise communicate to anyone who they are seeing, along with their vows as a Healer.” Fleur reminded him. It had been his one condition. A contract that would make sure whoever saw him could never say anything about who the patient was or anything of what they found out while treating him. Harry wasn’t stupid. Several people who he met at Hogwarts ended up selling information about him to the Daily Prophet, especially in his fifth year when he was called a liar and killer regarding him saying that Voldemort was back and Cedric’s death. The Ministry had on the record said that Cedric’s death was a tragic accident but the news from the Daily Prophet painted a much different picture about it and all but said that Harry was the one who murdered him. Harry knew that the Daily Prophet was in the Ministry’s pocket, however not for long. The Potter family owned a good percent of the company shares, over fifty percent and Harry wasn’t about to let them continue with their less than truthful publishing. 

Harry didn’t say anything back as he hastily walked behind her to Merle’s office where the Healer already was. Instead he thought about the information that he had gotten from Merle, or rather the lack of information the French Ministry had on any species called the Sephiroth. The only thing that Merle’s contacts in the Ministry could say were that there were two humanoid creatures with bird wings, the Valkyrie and the Corax. That, of course, was not counting the Veela who hid theirs. Neither the Valkyrie or the Corax had wings that were on fire or with feathers that turned into actual blades that could cut practically anything. Something the youngest Delacour had found out by accident when she reached to tug at his feathers the only time they had been out since he arrived in France. Harry was still swimming in guilt for accidentally hurting Gabrielle, even though it had been because she snuck up on his and grabbed them when he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. 

The lack of information regarding his creature was worrisome. Almost every creature had something that they could do that Wixen couldn’t. For Veela it was their control over fire and their allure. For wolves their unparalleled senses. For vampires their senses, strength, and speed. Harry had absolutely no idea what he might be able to do or how to control it if it came out. The last thing he needed with everything going on and his plans to get back at Dumbledore and fix the very backwards state of the British Wixen World, was anyone he couldn’t trust finding out about his creature status. With how much the British Wixen hated creatures, he knew he wouldn’t be welcomed by the Light Side, even if he was the Boy-Who-Lived. He would be villainized once again. Since he was the reason for Voldemort’s defeat, the Dark Side probably wouldn’t accept him either. Harry just hoped that the goblins would okay his request to go into the Chaus Family Vault soon, and even more so hoped that there was some information that could be found in whatever laid underneath the marble floors of Gringotts. If that didn’t work, all Harry could do was pray that one person in Merle’s very large web of contacts could find something that helped push them in the right direction. Otherwise, he wasn’t sure if he would actually be going to Hogwarts this year.

Harry shook his head as if to clear it of all the worried thoughts the moment he stopped in front of Merle’s office. He could hear Merle Delacour conversing with some male inside, and Apolline interjecting every so often with her own thoughts on the subject. Apolline’s outspokenness was something Harry noticed a lot over the past three days. She let her voice be heard, even if the people listening didn’t want to hear it. Harry liked that about her. Most of the witches back in Britain were soft-spoke, raised up to believe that they were supposed to be seen not heard. Harry always hated that. However, Apolline wasn’t very rude about it unless the person angered her, unlike Molly Weasley. Of course, that could only be because most of the time Harry had seen if the older witch was speaking French that he couldn’t understand so it was possible he completely missed the context of the conversations.

“How do I know I’m not going to regret this?” Harry questioned in a soft tone, looking up at his Magical Protector. He would never admit it out loud but he was scared. Harry was absolutely frightened about what the Healer might say. He knew that the aches and pains he felt constantly but completely ignored were not normal. He knew not being able to eat like everyone else wasn’t healthy. He knew being the size of a nine year old at the age of eleven wasn’t a good thing. The question was, could it be fixed? Harry knew better than anyone that magic wasn’t a cure all. Even his wild, untamed magic that had a complete mind of its own and defied the logic of how magic works, at least from all the magic theory books he had read at Hogwarts, couldn’t heal everything. Harry was terrified, not only of how the Healer and the Delacour’s would react to what he already knew would come up on a more intensive scan, but more so of being told there was nothing he could do that would heal him. To be honest, Harry was tired of constantly being in pain, but what if the only thing the Healer could do was prescribe him pain medication for the rest of however long he had left to live?

“You never know unless you try it, Hadrian.” Fleur gently placed her hand on his shoulder. Through their bond, Harry could feel the strength and confidence that Fleur was pushing to him to give him courage to open that door. Squaring back his shoulders and wiping all traces of emotions off his face, Harry knocked on the door before opening it when Merle called out. 

The first thing that Harry noticed was Gabrielle was nowhere to be seen in the office. A bit of relief rushed through him at not seeing the five year old. What would be shown in whatever way the Healer had to see all his injuries would not be a pretty sight. Harry already had to calm her down after she had a nightmare last night and came crying to him, and that was only because she had seen how bad he looked at Gringotts. Harry knew that she would be even more scarred having to hear everything he went through. He didn’t want to completely destroy her innocence. Besides, the young girl was already confused enough as it was about him time-traveling and Harry couldn’t be sure if it was going to be brought up or not. His eleven year old body hadn’t been through all the things he went through at Hogwarts, yet he had the scars from it much to his utter shock. The ‘I must not tell lies’ line that had been scarred on his right hand from using the blood quill had sent Apolline into an utter rage that took her hours to come out of when she had seen it and heard how it got there, and that wasn’t even mentioning the scar from his brush with death thanks to the Basilisk. 

The next thing that Harry noticed was the Healer. The male was probably in his early forties, though his brown hair was already starting to grey a similar shade as his eye color. The look he gave Harry wasn’t one of shock and awe that the person in front of him was Harry Potter, but rather one of utter shock and appallement about his physical condition. Harry relaxed a bit more when he saw that there wasn’t pity in his eyes. “Hello Lord Chaus, I was informed that you were in need of some healing. I am Healer  Raphaël Montagne. It is nice to meet you despite the unfortunate circumstances.” The Healer offered Harry a smile, reaching out to shake his hand. Harry cautiously moved closer and shook his hand, nodding to the older wizard.

“It’s nice to meet you as well.” Harry responded, ignoring the look Apolline shot at him for not using the appropriate greeting. He didn’t even try to fake a smile knowing it wouldn’t look genuine at all.

“Yes, well, we should get started right away.” Raphaël started. “I understand that you requested a Family Tree to be done by the Goblins at Gringotts. Did you ever do it? It would help me understand more about your family history and any health problems or blood curses you might have inherited. Goblin family trees are always more detailed than the ones us wizards can do. Their magic always seems to see everything, even if someone tried to use magic to cover it up.”

Harry was glad that he hadn’t sat down yet as he headed to Merle’s desk. He had completely forgotten about doing the family tree thing, despite the fact that he was still very curious about everything. Especially about how he was related to the Malfoy’s of all people. It had been a hectic couple of days though in Harry’s defense. “Sorry no. I forgot about it but I have the paper right…” Harry trailed off as he looked at the several Estate books that were his. Merle had been given permission as his Estate director or something like that, Harry didn’t remember the proper word for it, but it basically meant he could make changes and investments as he saw fit with Harry’s input. His family seats in the British Wizengamot were still empty, but Merle ran the several Estates of his. Of course, Merle was teaching Harry how to do it but since he was so young, the male Delacour didn’t want to push it all on him. Besides, it was technically his duty to help Harry in any way he could, even if that was just his thoughts of what his duty was and not something he was forced to do. Harry honestly thought Merle was a bit crazy being so happy helping run the Estates with all the work he already did for the Delacour Estate and the French Ministry. “Here!” Harry couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face for half a moment as he opened up the Potter Estate book grabbing out the parchment paper that Ragnuk had given him. Wiping the smile off his face, Harry went back to the group watching him and finally sat down.

“I know from personal experience that those take over ten minutes to fill out so while we wait for it after you activate it with your blood, I’d like to start my test.” Raphaël stated, pulling out a stone which had a rune carved into it. “This is what us Healers call a Blood Rune Diagnostic Test. In Britain, it is outlawed because blood magic is considered Dark and illegal but here in France it is legal. All you need to do is place your finger on the rune and it will cut it just enough to draw blood. The cut will heal once you remove your finger. After two minutes it will glow blue where I will place it on a parchment paper, rune down, and all your injuries and ailments will appear on them. Is that alright with you Lord Chaus?” 

“Yes, sir.” Harry answered as he accepted a silver knife from Apolline. Harry cut his finger and allowed the appropriate seven drops on the parchment before pulling back. Before he could heal it, Apolline already had her wand out and was casting the spell. The green magic washed over him was soothing as it healed the tiny cut, before purple magic washed away the excess blood. Nodding firmly to himself, Harry reached out and placed the same finger on the rune that Raphaël had reached over the table holding out to him. The pricking feeling didn’t bother him that much. Red magic that Harry wasn’t sure if the others could see, as he had activated his mage sight again, glowed from the stone. Harry only pulled back when the Healer nodded. As he was told, his finger was healed once it left the smooth stone.

“Did you hear back from them?” Harry questioned, looking at Merle. Although it wasn’t an appropriate time to ask about the Governors of Hogwarts, Harry couldn’t help himself. At least the contract kept Raphaël from talking about anything he heard during this meeting. Harry had sent a letter to the head of the Governors, who was surprisingly Nevelle’s grandmother, informing them of him being the Head of all the Founding members of Hogwarts and how there were some changes he wished to make about the curriculum taught at the school, sealing the letter with a wax stamp at the bottom of the parchment of the letter and the envelope itself. He purposely kept it vague about what he wanted to change, since he hadn’t decided all of that yet. The letter was really more of an introductory letter to tell them that he existed.

“Not yet, though I suppose a letter should show up sometimes today or tomorrow. It doesn’t seem like a thing that they would wait on.” Merle glanced at the window. All incoming owls had to come to Merle’s office first. Apparently they had an issue with hate mail when Fleur was eight due to something that happened in the French Ministry. The letter had a curse on it and Fleur had gotten to it first and opened it. She spent three days in the hospital because of it so for safety reasons all owls came to Merle first for him to check over before being given to the person they were sent to. Harry couldn’t fault his caution, he would have done the same thing if he was a father whose child had been injured.

Before Harry could open his mouth to respond, the stone glowed a bright blue. His attention was immediately taken as Raphaël set it on an empty piece of parchment paper he brought out from a bag next to him that Harry just noticed. Slowly the paper glowed blue as well as it grew bigger and longer. And longer. And longer…. Harry wasn’t surprised as he looked at it grow in width and length. He had a lot of injuries in just the first ten years of living with the Dursleys and that wasn’t even counting what happened at Hogwarts or the Dursleys afterward. Raphaël, on the other hand, obviously wasn’t expecting it as he grew paler and paler. Finally, after several minutes, the parchment stopped growing and the stone’s glow went out. The Healer slowly picked up the parchment, as if he was afraid it would bite him, and began to read it.

Besides the Healers muttering to himself, it was silent in the room. Harry tried not to let the occasional glances at him from Raphaël bother him too much, but the longer it went without him saying anything, the worse it got and the more he began to panic. It was almost like an itch had formed underneath his skin. Staying still and seated was hard to do so instead he began tapping his foot rapidly on the ground. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Raphaël was too far into reading the complete medical history of one Hadrian James Ignotus Potter, that he didn’t realize the Family Tree was done, but Harry wasn’t. A sense of relief flooded his veins as he picked it up, glad for something to do. The parchment paper had grown from what it was before he put his blood on it. Harry’s eyes were immediately drawn to his mother's side of the family. Her mother had been born a Malfoy but beyond that it was all male Malfoy’s for generations. The line actually went back twenty generations until it showed the first Malfoy of his line. He wasn’t the only child of that line. There was a child older than him, a girl who died three minutes after her birth for something that didn’t seem like a natural complication, and a younger brother whose line is the one that Draco’s line came from. The one who started his line was a squib which explained why he was kicked out of the Malfoy family and not talked about. Harry didn’t know the percentage of how much blood relation he and Draco had but it was practically nothing. He wasn’t sure if he was glad about that or not. Harry did find it very odd that after his many-great grandfather was exiled from the Malfoy family that they only had one child afterwards, always a male until his grandmother was born a female and then of course, his mother. 

Shrugging it off, Harry went back down the line until he saw his name. The only issue was his name wasn’t the only one connected to both him and his parents. There was another name. A name familiar to him but different from the one he knew. Hermanni Basil Calix Potter, younger male twin to Hadrian James Ignotus Potter. The link between the two seemed to be broken, like it wouldn’t appear on normal family tests. The picture with it was faded. Hovering his finger over it, the family tree changed to only Hermanni. Except it wasn't him…

Harry felt like he was going to be sick. He felt lightheaded and like the entire room was spinning around him. The picture that stared back at him. It was one he knew better than he knew himself. Hermione Granger. Her picture was on the parchment, connected to the parents she had told him about many times before, but never in good context whenever it was just him around. Harry had known that Hermione had issues with her gender for the longest time. She had told him back in their second year before she got petrified that she didn’t feel like a female. Harry hadn’t judged him like she thought he would. He told her he would support her no matter what she decided. Whether that was coming out or keeping it between just the two of them, he would do whatever he could for her. She insisted on him continuing to use female pronouns, even when they were alone. Something about the walls having ears and not wanting him to accidentally mess up. Now that he had thought about it, that was when he started dreaming of his younger male twin.

Harry felt sick. He hadn’t seen this in his memories. His parents had never mentioned a second child. His twin! Then again, when he was a baby he had immediately been swept out of the room by a medi-witch to get his measurements done. Harry swallowed down the bile that was creeping up his throat. He had seen the swift image of what looked to be Dumbledore as he was swept through the halls of Saint Mungo’s. He had just shrugged it off as something he made up. It all went by so fast, and there was no reason for the corrupt Headmaster to be there, so he hadn’t thought much about it.

Now though, as he stared at his family tree in horror, Harry knew it wasn’t something he had just made up. Dumbledore had done a lot of messed up things to him, but this? Stealing a child away? And not only stealing the child away but changing the child’s gender and age? That was something so vile that Harry hadn’t even thought it was possible for anyone to think of, let alone actually do and get away with. Harry didn’t know how he did it and got away with it but he swore he would make sure Dumbledore paid twice as much and he would make sure that he got his sibling back, no matter what. Especially knowing that Hermione wasn’t being treated right there. 

What made it all worse was that Hermione’s mother was a squib, a Dumbledore squib. Dumbledore had his own child steal away Harry’s sibling and that disgusted Harry more than anything. Dumbledore would pay for this, even if it was the last thing he did. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into Fleur's thoughts and more shocking revelations, though this time with Madam Bones. 
> 
> ~Next chapter will be the meeting with Sirius Black, possibly a meeting with the Board of Governors of Hogwarts to discuss the letter sent to them, and maybe a look into how Dumbledore is fairing with his plans falling around him. Please let me know your thoughts on seeing those things.~

Fleur Delacour could feel the distress coming from her bond with Hadrian. Even though the wizard who was younger than her, yet older than her mentally, was passed out and drugged to keep him from waking up until his mind could process the shock it went through, she could still feel how distressed he was. It pissed her off to no ends. Especially knowing that there was nothing she could do to help him right now. There was nothing that could be done until he woke up and could talk about what had happened.

Even in his drugged sleep, Hadrian looked tormented. His face was scrunched up in pain and he twitched as if fighting something. That worried her more than she was angry. The Healer had given him a dreamless sleep potion and a sedative to keep him from waking up while he disappeared many of his bones and then re-grew them. She didn’t know if Hadrian would be very happy about the Healer doing his job without his permission but he could be angry with her all he wanted. Since she was the one who gave her permission for it to happen. Being his Magical Protector gave her the right to get him medical attention as she saw fit, even though he was an emancipated minor. It was a good thing that Healer  Raphaël Montagne was a Veela and knew what that was, otherwise he would have denied doing anything while Hadrian was unconscious. 

Keeping him unconscious so he didn’t have to feel the pain of his bones re-growing was the major issue now. His magick was burning the potions in his system quicker than the Healer had ever seen before. Which was why he was attached to a drip-line that replaced the potion as quickly as his magick burned it. The muggle contraption was actually working better than anything magic had.

It has been horrible seeing her bond in so much pain. She had never seen such a look of anger or heartbreak on his face. Even seeing him in the dream that showed her everything that happened in her seventh year, she had never seen such agony on his face as he laid on the dead body of a fellow participant of the TriWizard’s Tournament. Fleur was just glad that she had felt his wave of uncontrollable magick before his wings popped out and the feathers went on the attack. She had immediately put up the strongest shield she knew over her and her parents. Raphaël wasn’t so lucky as he had been too involved with looking over the results of the test he performed. It was probably a good thing that he was a submissive Veela, since he went on the defensive immediately instead of going on the offensive like a dominant would have. Fleur wasn’t sure that even a dominant Veela would have been able to survive the full fury of Hadrian if they attacked him. 

There was something beautiful in the way that Hadrian’s wings exploded reacting to the intense emotions he was feeling. The feather blades had scattered everywhere looking for the perceived threat that had caused him such distress. As beautiful as it was, it was also tragic. Tragic that what Hadrian had read caused him so much pain and anger that his magick exploded around them. Fleur didn’t know where he had gone after reading the family tree, and at the time she hadn’t known what was on it that caused those emotions to erupt, but he wasn’t consciously there. All of them had tried to get him to calm down with words, to get him to control his magick. It hadn’t worked. Fleur had to order her parents and Raphaël out of the room before she tackled the younger one to the ground and held him tightly as the feathers zoomed overhead. She had to force her way into their bond to take control of his magick herself. It wasn’t an easy task at all. His magick was something Fleur had never seen before. It was complete and utter chaos, stronger than anything she’s ever felt before. She was certain that she had only been able to take control because she was his Magical Protector and his magick recognized it, and that was only because after five minutes it stopped actively attacking her own. Fleur had barely gotten it to calm down and force it to make him pass out before she lost consciousness herself, having exhausted herself magically.

Fleur looked up as the door opened and in walked her mother with Raphaël. He immediately went to his Healer bag that he left in here so he wouldn’t have to bring it back and forth whenever he had to give Hadrian the next dose of potions. “Why does he still look like he’s in so much pain?” Fleur demanded. The only thing that kept her from glaring at the Healer was the fact that he was a male submissive Veela and her instincts wouldn’t allow her to. 

Raphaël sighed as he stared at the young-looking boy laying in the bed over the covers since his body temperature had spiked the first dose of potions. A fine sheen of sweat covered Hadrian, sticking his hair to his face and neck. He was only dressed in a pair of night shorts and a tank top which also clung to his skin. “As I told you, that is always a possibility with his magicks reaction to the potions. There is only so much I can do to predict the correct doses for him without overdosing him because of how malnourished he is. Thankfully this should be the last dose of Skele-Gro.” Raphaël told her as he did a scan of Hadrian’s bones. The scan worked much like a muggle x-ray, except on the patient and in real time, not taking pictures of it and having to use light to see them. There were only a couple fractures left in the bones that he hadn’t vanished to regrow and a few parts of the bones he did vanish that weren’t complete. “There is also a possibility that it is simply mental anguish from learning about his twin. Mental pain has been known to show through potions.” 

Fleur sighed, forcing herself to calm down a bit. Instead of responding, she grabbed the washcloth that was in the water next to his bed, ringing it out before placing it back on Hadrian’s head. Although Fleur wasn’t paying attention to what Raphaël was doing, she knew from the other times he had done it. First he would check how the progress with his bones was going, which he already did. Then he would check the tube that sent the potion directly into Hadrian’s blood stream. Once he was sure everything was going fine he would vanish the Skele-Gro into Hadrian’s stomach along with a half a level three pain reliever. Finally he would check the younger wizard’s vitals to make sure he was stable. Fleur was sure that he checked Hadrian’s vitals between all of that as well but she didn’t pay too much attention to it after the first time, instead focusing on sending Hadrian calming emotions through their bond. 

The process didn’t take too long. Soon enough Raphaël left the room, leaving her with only her mother. “He will be alright, Fleur. Your Papa is thinking of ways to get the child out of their custody. It all depends on what Hadrian decides is best. It isn’t like we can kidnap them, though knowing how headstrong he is, that is going to be another battle.” Apolline laughed, smiling fondly at the boy while brushing back his hair, being very careful not to touch the feathers of his wings that were still out since he was unable to put them away. Although the feathers weren’t in their blade form, she didn’t wish to tempt fate. “We will make sure that those who stole the child pay. You know how powerful your papa is, he would settle for no less. Especially when a child is involved.” Apolline pulled back from Hadrian to give her daughter a hug and a kiss on her forehead before leaving the room.

Fleur sighed softly as she sat next to Hadrian. She couldn’t imagine the kind of shock it would be learning that your best friend was not only your twin, but also was born male, kidnapped, and had a forced gender change. She couldn’t even imagine what Hermione… No, Hermanni. What Hermanni was going through. Fleur didn’t know much about Harry’s best friends. She knew who they were of course, and all the rumors of what they had been through since the start of school. She didn’t know if they felt like a male or female but what Fleur did know, is that the gender potion didn’t change the brain. Those who took it still had to take special hormone potions to keep them balanced and healthy in their new body. She had a friend at Beauxbatons who recently changed their gender to male now that he was seventeen so she knew a bit about what they went through. But it was one thing to have that option and another to be forced when you were nothing more than a baby not even an hour old. The family tree had been painfully detailed about when the blood adoption potion and sex change potion was administered. All Fleur could do was hope that there wouldn’t be any long lasting effects of it and that her parents could find a way to reverse both if that is what they chose once they were freed from their kidnappers. For Hermanni’s sake and Hadrian’s, she wished for that much. 

“Oh Harry, when will fate stop being so cruel to you?” Fleur questioned, her eyes filled with tears as she brushed his hair back again noticing that it had gotten longer once again.

“Hadrian.” The boy corrected in a mutter, his eyes opened slightly to look at Fleur before he was back asleep. Fleur felt her heart drop for a moment, before soaring as he seemed to settle down into a more peaceful sleep. It seemed he was ready to accept that he wasn’t the Harry he thought he was this entire time. 

~

~

~

Meanwhile back in Britain, things were not going so smoothly for Madam Bones. For half of the week since that day at Number Four Privet Drive, Amelia basically lived at the Ministry trying to get the entire mess in order. Susan was very much protesting the heavy workload that kept her aunt from her and her at her friend Hannah’s, but there wasn’t really anything Amelia could do. It was times like these that Amelia hated being the Head of the DMLE. Her manageable pile of paperwork was now towering and there was only so much she could push off or hand off to someone else to do. It didn’t help that a lot of the paperwork sent her scurrying off to one department or the next because there was something missing or she needed further information. Unfortunately, because all the work she was suddenly drowning in, the investigation she wanted to put Dumbledore under had to be put on the backburner as she worked with the Department of Magical Children Services trying to figure out why there was no case file for Harry Potter and just how many other children that were orphaned during the war against Voldemort ended up misplaced or not getting checked up on for years. Unfortunately it seemed like too many children were just left and forgotten about, in the muggle world too which only made things worse.

One thing that Amelia was certain about was that Cyrena was right when she told her that she needed to get people with strong stomachs to interrogate the adult Dursley’s. Levisay had walked out of the interrogation room twenty minutes from entering it when interrogating Petunia. From what she heard he was pale and went into the bathroom and didn’t emerge for a good thirty minutes, and after that he refused to go back in there. Scrimgeour did better while interrogating Vernon but he had to take frequent breaks. Not to get sick, though he confined in Amelia that he would have nightmares for Merlin knows how long about what he heard, but to keep himself from murdering the disgusting excuse for a human being. Fawley, who was the one who interrogated Mrs. Figgs, had a slightly easier time but only because the squib didn’t actively abuse the boy, just neglected to report the obvious abuse that she tried to help heal. The mousey, cat lover was hiding something though according to Fawley which was the only reason why after several days she was still being called in for questioning. They hadn’t laid any charges prematurely without knowing the extent of what happened in that horror house the Dursley’s called a home so Mrs. Figgs was free to leave once the daily questioning was done. It left a bad taste in Amelia’s mouth that she was walking free when she had watched a child suffer horrendous torture at the hands of these monsters and did absolutely nothing to stop it. 

Before any charges could be placed on any of them though, they needed to finish getting Vernon’s accounts and restart Petunia’s questioning. Amelia had tried to get Alastor Moody to question her, despite him no longer being an Auror, since he was the toughest son of a gun she knew, and didn’t even blink at the worst of the worst cases, but something very peculiar happened when he came in to do it. The moment the two of them stepped into the interrogation room, Petunia immediately tensed up and looked anywhere but at Moody. Each and every question was answered by silence as she refused to speak a single word in his presence. It was odd that this was now the second person who had the same thing happen whenever they were around but that was an investigation for another day. Amelia made sure to make note of it so she wouldn’t forget with everything she had to do. 

Today, however, was going to be less busy than the others previous, but perhaps not any less stressful. She was set to meet with the Head of MCS, Adryan Bellchant, at Saint Mungo’s to hear what the Healers there found when checking the young Dursley over. Although he wasn’t a magical child, to her knowledge, he was still a child who was influenced by magic so he was under MCS’s care until he was sent to the muggle child services. After everything was settled at Saint Mungo’s and she knew the child would be okay, she had another meeting. This time it was at Azkaban with a couple of the Wizengamot members who were Neutral so they could hear out Sirius Black’s account of everything that happened that fateful night. Amelia had just barely been able to get Minister Fudge to agree to just having a couple members of the Wizengamot decide Black’s fate. He eventually agreed after watching the memories that had been sent to her by the person who currently had custody of Hadrian Potter, Amelia had been corrected quite vehemently by the Head Goblin of Gringotts when she went asking about it. Whoever had him was on the goblins good side so Amelia left it alone for now. Her owls had yet to get answered but with everything she had read that happened to Hadrian, it was possible that the guardian was too busy trying to get him healed to write back. Amelia figured it could wait another week or so before she went back to question the goblins. They obviously knew a lot more than they were telling her. 

A light sigh left Amelia as she looked up from the paperwork. Her sight was all blurry and the words seemed to be coming off the page from how long she had been at it. A quick cast of the Tempus told her that it was time to leave for Saint Mungo’s. Adryan wasn’t someone Amelia wanted to keep waiting as he wasn’t known for his patience, especially when there was a child to be helped. He was a good guy unless you kept him from helping children, which Amelia totally understood. She was quick to stand up and head out of the room, quickly and efficiently making her way to the Atrium before floo-ing to Saint Mungo’s. 

Adryan was waiting right by the floo station, a silver pocket watch in his hands as he checked the time. “Right on time as always, Madam Bones.” The thirty-three year old male stated as he looked up from his pocket watch, a small smirk on his face. The male was tall and lean. He wore a nice navy blue suit that made the dark oceans that were his eyes pop out from behind the wavy black locks that partially hid them. “You know, with how much time we’ve been spending together, we might as well be married.” He joked, smiling at the younger witch. 

Amelia’s eyes widened slightly, her face heating up just a bit. Although she had never been much for looking for a person to spend her life with, especially after the death of her brother and his family that led her to raise her niece as a single mother, there was something different about Adryan. Not only was he devilishly handsome, and he knew it much to her chagrin, but he was also very passionate about his job and taking care of children. Maybe that was what drew Amelia to the male, a like that was slowly growing with the amount of time they had been spending around one another checking up on each child that they had files on. 

“Not quite that much, Lord Bellchant.” Amelia replied, getting control of herself by reminding herself of her job. She didn’t have to worry about this boy ending up in a bad family, like some of the children they had checked on together had. Adryan had newly gotten the job as the Head of the MCS and he had been slowly going through their files checking on the children that had been sorely neglected by his predecessor. She knew he wouldn’t let him end up anywhere that wasn’t safe.

“Please, I told you to just call me Adryan. I don’t see either of our jobs separating any time soon with how much work we have to do.” Adryan sent her a warm smile before gesturing to the reception desk that laid at the end of the floo network hall. “Shall we, my lady?” 

Amelia didn’t verbally respond to what he said, instead heading towards the desk forcing down the flush that wanted to form on her face. 

The witch receptionist smiled brightly at the two as they stepped up. “Hello, who are you here to see?” She asked, glancing at the two before pointedly looking at Amelia’s stomach. Quickly she looked back at the younger witches eyes, her smile ever present.

“We are here to see Dudley Dursley. He was admitted five days ago. I’m Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE, and he is Adryan Bellchant, Head of the MCS.” Amelia told her, pulling out her id to show it. The receptionist 's smile widened before taking on a sad look.

“Oh right! I was informed you two would be by sometime today. It's so sad what happened to him. He’s such a sweet boy too. Floor four, Janus Thickey Ward, room 23 is where you’ll find him. I’d suggest talking to the receptionist up there before going to his room. While he isn’t like most of the patients in the ward, you are supposed to have a Healer with you when in there.” She informed them.

Amelia’s eyebrows raised, a bit shocked. From all the people she interviewed from the boys school and the neighborhood that Number Four Privet Drive was a part of, none of them described Dudley as a sweet boy. Quite frankly, she had heard that he was quite the bully and his favorite target was his cousin who he had turned the whole school against by beating up anyone who went near him. Amelia’s lips pursed as she nodded to the receptionist, thanking her. The witch and wizard headed towards the elevators to go to the Janus Thickey Ward.

“Do you have any idea why they would have put him in  _ that _ ward?” Adryan asked as the elevator doors shut behind them, his tone was full of disgust. The Janus Thickey Ward did have a bad reputation. Well, technically all of Saint Mungo’s did. It had been a mental asylum for the magical long ago but the ward to treat permanent spell damage was the worst of it all. The experiments that happened in Ward 49 went down in history as the worse humanity could do to another being. It was a sick thing that a lot of the patients who got the worst of it after Mungo's Asylum turned into Saint Mungo’s Hospital for Maladies and Injuries, under a new director with stricter rules put in place of course, ended up having to stay in the newly named Janus Thickey Ward Long-Term Residency. The ward now treated things like permanent jinxes, hexes, and incorrectly-applied spells, as well as taking care of those who were mentally incapable of taking care of themselves due to permanent spell damage. However, its reputation precedes itself.

“The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes found him in that house without any memories of who he was besides a healthy fear for his parents once he woke up. The boy screamed when his parents lunged for him after seeing one of the DMAC employee’s revive their son. Why he has a fear of them I do not know since all reports say that the two doted on their son and he never had any issues with them beforehand.” Amelia responded. Just another mystery to add to the many that needed to be unraveled before this case could be put to bed. The letter from Hadrian Potter’s new guardian didn’t say that he did anything to the boy but it also didn’t say anything about who all the rune affected. Dudley was a Dursley and he did bully Hadrian from all accounts. Hopefully the Healers of Saint Mungo’s would have better luck figuring out if the boy was under the effects of any magic. The Healers the Ministry called in had no such luck in finding any traces of magic in his parents. The rune seemed to be completely untraceable in its victims, not that you could really call Vernon and Petunia victims, and unbreakable to boot. Very powerful magic that not even the best curse breaker Gringotts employed could break. 

“So they put him in the Janus Thickey Ward because he is under some type of permanent magic? Amelia, who would do that to a child?” Adryan sounded completely outraged.

“I do not know, Adryan. I don’t even know if he was under any magic or what has happened to him. All I know is what I’ve learned from interviewing people who knew the Dursley’s.” Amelia told him. She really didn’t. She had yet to get a report from Saint Mungo’s on the child’s condition. The moment the elevator opened to the fourth floor, Adryan was off to find his answers. Amelia let out a soft sigh as she followed, though the small smile on her face betrayed that she wasn’t as annoyed as she let her mask show. 

By the time she caught up to her coworker, he already had a Healer by his side. “-he has been under has been a lot longer than just the past week, Lord Bellchant. Since he was one year old, to be exact.” Amelia caught the end of what the witch Healer was saying. 

“He’s a muggle though! Who put a muggle child under spells and compulsions?” Adryan protested, his eyes comically wide and his pale face turning red in his anger. Amelia immediately tensed up as she stopped next to him. 

“I don’t know who told you the child was a muggle, but I can confirm that he isn’t, though someone did bind his magic quite tightly to make him seem like one. That along with compulsions to make him eat practically everything in sight, hatred spells keyed to his cousin and anything magic or strange, and complete personality changing potions that he has been taking regularly once a month, made him much different than he is.” The Healer explained patiently. “I do not know why his memory was tampered with or how, but my best explanation for it would be that someone or something broke through all blocks, compulsions, and spells which caused a shock to his system that made him forget everything since he was a child. Well not everything, the child is actually very smart but he didn’t know his name or his parents. The only thing he can remember about his parents is that they are very bad people and the fear that emanates from him makes me hope that whoever they are will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.” 

“Oh, they will be. Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE.” Amelia introduced herself. “These potions that changed his personality. Would they have turned him into a bully who victimized anyone deemed to be worse off than him and steal things that he wanted?” She couldn’t help but question it. That was exactly how the teachers at his school had described him. Amelia wanted to know if that was his actual personality or what he was forced to do. If the potions had caused him to become a bully, she felt bad for him. She couldn’t imagine being forced to act completely different than she normally does. Though it was strange for him to have a complete one eighty personality if he had been one when he ended up with the Dursley's. Maybe it was the lack of memories? Amelia had no idea. She wasn’t one who knew a lot about mental magic, that much was certain. 

“I’m Healer Miriam Strout, nice to meet you. The bullying, yes. The stealing was another compulsion on him.” The older witch answered before frowning, a meaningful hum leaving her. “What is strange is that the compulsions are completely burned out of his system. I’m sure you know that compulsions are illegal because even if they are taken off properly, there are still traces that affect the victim’s personality. There were traces of the compulsions, which was how we found them when he came in, but they left him completely within thirty minutes of him being here. Whoever or whatever caused the binds to break completely wiped out the compulsions. It is very strong magic that we’ve never seen before but I am grateful for it, whatever it was. Dudley won’t struggle with keeping from eating everything in sight nor being compelled to steal things he wants.” 

“That is a relief.” Adryan sighed, slouching down as the relief hit him. “Can we see him?” Healer Strout nodded, smiling at the two before letting them into the locked Janus Thickey Ward. It didn’t take much time to get to room 24 and let them in after her. 

“Dudley this is Madam Amelia Bones from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Lord Adryan Bellchant from the Department of Magical Children Services. They came to talk to you.” Healer Strout told the child who sat on the bed in the room. 

Amelia didn’t know what to expect when she saw the young boy. She knew what he looked like and even with magic all that weight wouldn’t have come off in only five days, though he did seem a bit thinner than the descriptions others gave her. The boy who was described as a no-good rascal from a good family was not the boy in front of her who offered her and her coworker a smile. This boy didn’t seem dark or evil. He didn’t seem like someone who wanted to harm anyone from the way he was gently petting the cat in his lap while reading a book. The cat was probably one of the cats that wandered around Saint Mungo’s to brighten up the spirits of their patients. 

“Hello Madam, Lord. It’s nice to meet you.” He said politely. This wasn’t quite what Amelia was expecting to hear or see but she was happy. Relieved even. The last thing she wanted was to have to send the boy to a reform school to fix the cruddy behavior that seemed to be forced onto him. Amelia sent a quiet thank you to Lady Magic for whatever happened to help the boy change for the better. Though if she knew what actually caused it and the reasons why, she probably wouldn’t be so thankful but Amelia Bones was not the wiser to what happened minutes before the DMAC arrived on the scene at Number Four Privet Drive, nor would she ever be. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Board of Governors of Hogwarts have a meeting about the mysterious letter sent to Madam Longbottom and finally Sirius Black gets his trial.
> 
> (Sorry for the long wait. This chapter was a lot harder to write than I thought it was going to be. The end of the chapter is a bit iffy in my opinion since I really didn't know how to go about writing Sirius's trial but I did my best. I hope you all enjoy this chapter.)

_ ~The Day Hadrian Found Out About His Twin~ _

It was extremely quiet in the small meeting room at Hogwarts that was for any meeting the Board of Governors needed to have. Dowager Augusta Longbottom had just finished reading the letter that had been sent to her by the Heir of Hogwarts and now everyone was left to process what they had to say. When Augusta had first gotten the letter she was shocked. For one, she didn’t even know that there was an Heir to all the Hogwarts Founders. For two, she hadn’t known that Merlin even had a child, let alone one that mixed lines with those four families. Of course, it had taken a bit of research for her to figure out the last family crest as it was an ancient druid symbol she had never seen before, having no knowledge of ancient druids after all. It was one thing for there to be an Heir of all the Hogwarts Founders, but a completely different thing when it was added with the Emrys Family as well. Augusta didn’t believe that anyone should have the power that one would have as the Lord of multiple very prestigious families. The Emrys family alone held so much power that came from Merlin’s legends and him helping save everyone from the Dark Lady Morgana Le Fay. That much power in someone's hand was terrifying. 

“Have any of you heard anything about this?” Augusta finally spoke up breaking the silence that had settled in the meeting room as she looked up from the letter. Her eyes fell solely on Lucius Malfoy. 

Lucius Malfoy let out a quiet hum as he leaned back in his wingback chair. His ankles crossed underneath the table as he looked at all of the other Governors. Out of anyone it would have been Lucius who would have heard anything, hence why she looked directly at him and not anyone else in the room. Lucius was the one who knew all the on goings at the Ministry, even things he wasn’t supposed to know. He was one of the two people who had the Minister wrapped around his finger, feeding the feeble man who wasn’t fit to rule over the British Wixen without help information and help. He had his hand in a lot of the stuff that the Ministry did as well. 

“As most of you already know from being in the Wizengamot meetings and from the Daily Prophet sticking their noses where they don’t belong, most of the talk around the Ministry as of late is about Heir Potter and what happened to him. Of course, Dumbledore being removed as Heir Potter’s magical guardian by Lady Magic herself and losing the Potter Seats because of it, as well as people questioning the mans competence and what he got out about telling everyone the child was happy, safe and treated like a prince in a wizard family when he wasn’t is close second.” Lucius started skillfully hiding his smug smirk. He, like most of the Dark Families, and several Neutral Fraction Families, felt great amusement seeing Dumbledore’s name dragged through the mud like it was currently, however small that pile of mud might be. Some people refused to believe Dumbledore could do any of what the papers were speculating, clinging to the rose-tinted glasses the old wizard had put on practically everyone in Wixen World by bringing about the end of Grindelwald. Of course, the fact that it was because a child was put into an abusive home quickly sobered Lucius up from any amusement he got out of it. 

Lucius couldn’t conceive why anyone would dare lay a hand on a precious innocent child, as were the rumors that were coming from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the Department of Magical Children Services, and the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, the latter being where the rumors were mostly coming out of as they were first on the scene. Lucius wished he was able to have more than one child. However, the blood curse placed on his family, no thanks to the Weasley Family, made it impossible. Lucius and Narcissa had struggled to even have Draco because of the curse. The Malfoy Family had incredibly low birthrates and a high infant mortality rate. Most pregnancies ended up in stillbirths, those that were born normally only stayed alive for a day to a week before passing. In the end, there was only even one living male child in each new generation to continue on the family name. Lucius’s heart twisted painfully in his chest as he remembered just how many small coffins there were in the Malfoy Family Mausoleum. Yet people always wondered why the Malfoy family always spoiled their children and doted on them to the extremes. 

Clearing his throat, Lucius continued. “There is also the rumors that the person who took Heir Potter out of his abusive home had sent a letter to Madam Bones that was the Last Will and Testimonies of late Lord James and Lily Potter, as well as some memories that showed that Lord Black was not their Secret Keeper nor responsible for killing Heir Pettigrew and the twelve muggles. How true that is, I am not sure but I have heard from Minister Fudge she will be going to Azkaban to visit him tomorrow. Between that and everything happening with the DMCS finding out about all these missing and misplaced orphans from the war sparking many changes all throughout the Ministry, it is obvious this development with someone taking up the Lordship of five houses has slipped by unnoticed. The perfect timing for someone who wishes to go under the radar for a while.” Of course, Lucius knew that the rumors about Sirius Black were actually true since he was going with Madam Bones and the leaders of the Light and Neutral Fractions of the Wizengamot tomorrow, but those here didn't need to know that. “That is if the Goblins even decided to inform us of it to begin with. They do not have to if the person wishes to remain anonymous for whatever reason. As you know the seats in the Wizengamot are still empty as of yet. The only recent changes being to the Potter Family seat and Lord Ogden becoming the Chief Warlock until investigations into Dumbledore are completed.”  _ And hopefully it will stay that way,  _ Lucius thought to himself. Dumbledore stopped anything that wasn’t aligned with his own agenda from getting passed more often than not, keeping the British Wixen World in the medieval ages.

“Which is complete bullshit if you ask me. Dumbledore did absolutely nothing wrong! He is the Leader of the Light!” Elphias Doge, another member of the Board of Governors, exclaimed, glaring at Lucius. 

Lucius mentally snorted at that but outwardly kept his emotionless pureblood mask on. If there was anyone on the Board of Governors that Lucius hated, it was Doge. The Dumbledore-loving maniac constantly spouted out how great and wonderful Dumbledore is all the time, even when there were more important things that needed to be discussed. It made the process of getting anything done a very arduous task. Then there was the fact that Doge hated five out of the twelve Governors on the Board for the sole fact that they were from the Dark Fraction. There wasn’t a single meeting since Lucius had joined the Board that Doge didn’t bring up the fact that he was a Death Eater, despite being found innocent in the eyes of the Wizengamot due to being under an Imperius Curse; not that he was actually under the Imperius Curse.

“We aren’t here to discuss politics. We are here to discuss the validity of this letter and decide if we want to hear this Lord Hogarth-Emrys out.” Fraser McKinnon, the oldest of the McKinnon Wixen Clan, and a member of the Neutral Fraction, spoke up, narrowing his eyes at both Lucius and Doge. He called the letter writer Hogarth-Emrys, as would be their appropriate title despite them obviously not knowing that. The Founding Hogwarts Families had said should all of their lines cross in the future the family would become under one name, Hogarth, to make it easier on paperwork. Should the person under that name have multiple children to split the names back up, it could be done if that was what they decided.

Lucius pursed his lips but kept himself from saying anything against Lord McKinnon. He would have to be downright stupid to go against the Head of the largest, and only living, Wixen clan in Great Britain. The McKinnon’s were fifty members strong, all living in the same large manor for better protection. All of them were of the Neutral Fraction, except one granddaughter Marlene McKinnon who got herself and three other family members murdered in the First War, right after Voldemort vanished, because she loudly and proudly declared herself a member of the Order of the Phoenix. At least, that was what the Daily Prophet had to say about her death but Lucius, being an inner circle member, knew differently. Lord Voldemort hadn’t wanted to anger the McKinnon’s and left them all alone, and had specifically ordered all his Death Eaters to stay away from them. No one that Lucius had talked to said anything about being involved.

Doge, however, was not as smart. “Yes we are! You think all of this is just some big coincidence? Dumbledore gets framed for the abuse of Harry Potter, who conveniently went missing from the muggle house he was supposedly in, and then some upstart comes along claiming to not only be the Heir of every Hogwarts Founding Family but Emrys as well? Everyone knows Merlin had no children, and Lady Magic can’t just give a family lordship to someone not of blood or take away guardianship of a child! This is all a ploy by He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named to gain control over Hogwarts!” Doge sneered glaring at all of them.

“It is Heir Potter to you. Remember your decorum, Lord Doge.” Mati Patil, one of the three females on the Board, shook her head disgusted by what he was saying. “Dumbledore hasn’t been framed for anything and as it is still an ongoing Auror investigation no one knows his exact ties to what happened in that house. However, he is the one who told the Daily Prophet on multiple occasions that he saw Heir Potter once a week, if not more, since he was placed with the family. That isn’t hearsay. As for the letter being a false claim, Augusta went to Gringotts and the Goblins confirmed that the wax seal is made from the family magic of all five Lordship rings of the families involved. And you should really watch how you speak about Lady Magic. She can be quite vengeful when she wants to be.”

“Lord McKinnon is right though. Now isn’t the time to discuss politics and we’ve gotten way off topic. I personally would like to hear what changes Lord Hogarth-Emrys would like to implement at Hogwarts. Though I do find it strange the letter was sent to the Board instead of the Headmaster. Although the Board of Governors used to have more power over the school, most of it lies with the Headmaster again.” Giffard Abbot kept his neutral expression with practiced ease, pushing the Bboard back onto the topic they gathered here for. Back when he had first joined the Board of Governors, the Board had more power over the school. It had all been taken away when Dumbledore became the Headmaster and found rules made by the Founders, despite it being the Founders Heirs who made the Board of Governors to keep the Ministry from interfering with the school and gave them those rights. 

“Lord Hogarth-Emrys has every right to come to us instead of the Headmaster if that is what he choses. It was only an archaic law and no Heir coming forward to take Lordship of one of the Founding Families that let Dumbledore take full control of the school as he has,” Vinda Rosier stated, pursing her lips. She was still angry that Dumbledore had managed to take full control out of their hands and destroy Hogwarts as much as he has by removing so many classes. Yet, there was nothing the Board could do about it because it was a law written by the Founders when they were creating the school. If there had been an Heir to step forward and take the Lordship, what they thought best ruled over what their ancestors said long before when Hogwarts was still in its infant stages.

Augusta cleared her throat making everyone look at her. “I think we should take a vote on whether we wish to hear Lord Hogarth-Emrys out or send him to Headmaster Dumbledore instead to discuss what they have planned.” Dowager Longbottom spoke up, narrowing her eyes at the other Governors daring them to go against her want to put up the vote now instead of listening to them squabble back and forth like children. “I vote to hear him out.” She stated lifting her want in the air casting Lumos silently so the tip light up.

“Yes.” Lucius, Giffard Abbot, Gareth Greengrass, Asger Nott, Vinda Rosier, Akilah Shafiq, Perseus Parkinson, Mati Patil, Leonard Moon, and Fraser McKinnon, all agreed with Augusta’s vote lighting up their wands as well.

“You have all gone mad. Dumbledore is the Headmaster, he should be the one talking to this Hogarth-Emrys person, not us! We have no right to go behind his back like this!” Elphias Doge protested, not lighting up his wan. However despite his protests it was still eleven against one.

“Yeses have it. I shall write a letter requesting a date we can meet him in person. This meeting is adjourned.” Dowager Longbottom quickly wrapped up the meeting. Not wanting to be in the presence of Doge any longer than she had to.

~

_ ~After meeting Dudley Dursley~ _

~

Madam Amelia Bones had been the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for the past two years, and before that she spent six years as an Auror. Yet, despite all of that she had never stepped foot inside Azkaban, having never been an Auror who patrolled the halls of the prison or assigned to transfer a prisoner to the prison. As such, she was not ready at all for how freezing the place was throughout Azkaban. The scent of musk, decay, and sea water was overwhelming as she, Liliana Abbot, Leader of the Light Fraction, Tiberius Ogden, Leader of the Neutral Fraction, Lucius Malfoy, Leader of the Dark Fraction, and Healer Blackwell sat in a moldy visitation room that looked as if it hadn’t been used in centuries. It wasn’t all that surprising that the visitation rooms were used often since no one ever willingly came here, not even the Aurors who worked here. 

“The cells are much worse, I assure you.” Lucius sneered, a scowl on his face. 

Amelia winced slightly as she remembered that Lucius had been sent to Azkaban to await his trail after the First War against Voldemort ended when everyone thought he was a true Death Eater. If the actual cells were worse than this, Amelia really didn’t want to see them. She didn’t see how anyone thought any of this was humane, and it was no wonder anyone who was released almost always ended up reoffending, but then again the people who went to Azkaban weren’t known for being good people. Amelia quickly pushed those thoughts out of her mind though, tapping her fingers against her briefcase.

Only seconds later, the iron door screeched as it was forced open on hinges that had all but rusted everything together. Two Aurors that Amelia knew walked in with a person between them, half dragging them inside the room since the figure didn’t seem like they were able to walk themselves. Amelia barely stifled a gasp as the Aurors pushed the figure into the seat across from them. It took a bit of time for her to recognize him as Sirius Black. Long gone were his handsome looks that all the girls at Hogwarts fawned over. He was beyond skinny and frail-looking. His hair was a mess, long and knotted beyond belief looking more like a rats nest than actual hair. His face was extremely sunken in, and more grey than it was a normal peachy complexion. The prison clothes hung off his form ripped, tattered, and dirty. The scent that wafted off of him made Amelia want to hold her breathe. It smelt like he had taken a bath in the Bog of Eternal Stench. Amelia watched with hidden horror as Sirius Black struggled to pick his head up from where it rested on his chest.

Amelia reached over, tapping her wand to the orb that would record everything to be watched by the rest of the Wizengamot in a couple of days. She then grabbed her self-writing quill to write down everything she or the others in the room said. “Everything we speak about is now being recorded. In the room is Madam Bones, Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Office, Lady Liliana Abbot, Leader of the Light Fraction of the Wizengamot, Tiberius Ogden, Leader of the Neutral Fraction of the Wizengamot, Lucius Malfoy, Leader of the Dark Fraction, Healer Bryan Blackwell, Auror Liam Sanderson, Auror Elijah Martin, and the accused party Lord Sirius Black. Today is June 27th, 1991,” Amelia started the process trying not to let the dead look Sirius sent her bother her. “Lord Black, do you know why we are here today?”

Sirius finally managed to pick up his head to stare at those in front of him. Licking his dry lips, he parted them slightly. “No.” His voice was hoarse, like he hardly used it in the past ten years, and barely above a whisper making it hard to catch what he said in the winds and crashing waves that were hitting Azkaban and howling outside the barred window. Amelia was thankful for magic since his barely heard word was written down on the parchment for the records instead of her having to repeat it for him. Minister Fudge had refused to allow her to have Lord Black transferred to the Auror Department cells for the trial to take place so he could deal with it.

“It has been ten years since you were incarcerated in Azkaban, accused of murdering Heir Peter Pettigrew, twelve counts of murder for muggles, being a Death Eater serving He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, breech of the Statue of Secrecy, and treason. According to the Ministry records you were never granted a trial. Someone sent us new evidence in the form of the late Potter's Will and Testimonies, and memories from Heir Hadrian Potter of that night. Lord Black, do you consent to having Veritaserum used to get to the truth for this trial?” Amelia questioned, hoping he would agree. As he was a Lord, he didn’t have to be put under the truth serum unless he agreed to it.

“Yes.”

Amelia nodded to Healer Blackwell who first did a series of tests to make sure that administering the truth serum wouldn’t cause any more harm to Sirius or possibly kill him. The healer looked absolutely pissed at what was on the parchment that came out of his want but he nodded to Amelia, grabbing out a sealed bottle of Veritaserum. He unsealed it and dropped three drops onto Sirius’s tongue, having to help the male open his mouth since Sirius was too weak to hold it open for long. “Let the records show that Healer Blackwell administered three drops of Veritaserum to Lord Sirius Black with his consent at 2:24 p.m., July 27th, 1991.” Amelia said out loud for the records. They waited a couple of seconds until Sirius’s eyes glazed over as the potion took effect.

“Please share your full name with the court.” Amelia stated, as was the customary first question to begin with.

“Sirius Orion Black.” Sirius answered in a monotone voice.

“Lord Black have you ever been in contact with the Dark Lord who called himself Voldemort?” A chill went down the spines of everyone in the room, except for Sirius and Lucius, the latter of the two wincing at the sudden pain in his arm with the mention of his name.

“Once. During a battle against the Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix.” Sirius answered.

“Are you a member of the Death Eaters?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Were you the Potter’s Secret Keeper?”

“I was supposed to be but Dumbledore convinced James, Lily, and I that I was the obvious choice and that they should have Peter Pettigrew do it instead.”

“Why did you go to Godric’s Hollow the night the Potter’s were killed?”

“I was thinking about a present to send to my godsons when I was able to remember the place they were hidden. Fearing the worse I rushed to Godric’s Hollow where I found James dead in the living room. Ii headed farther inside and up the stairs where I heard crying. Lily was dead in front of Hadrian’s crib but my godson was standing in it, crying for his mother. I immediately grabbed him wondering where his twin was, but I couldn’t find him anywhere in the cottage. I went to leave to get the Aurors when Dumbledore and Hagrid stopped me. Dumbledore wanted me to give Hadrian over to Hagrid but I refused.”

“What do you mean Heir Potter’s twin?” Amelia asked, going pale as she gleaned at the others in the room with confusion. Everyone else seemed just as confused as she was.

“Lily and James had twins. Hadrian is the older one, Hermanni the younger one. I was in the room when Lily gave birth but left to go tell my husband and wife about their birth. Lily and James and the boys went into hiding right after she gave birth because Dumbledore emphasized how important it was to get them somewhere safe.” 

Amelia felt a bit lightheaded at this revelation. She had never heard of the Potter’s having twins before. It was only ever Hadrian who was talked about. She added that to her ever growing list of things to look into before moving on. “Why did you give Heir Potter to Hagrid?”

“I didn’t want to, I was forced to.” 

“Were you forced to do anything else you wouldn’t have done otherwise that night?”

“When Hadrian left my arms I got the sudden urge to go after Peter Pettigrew. He had betrayed Lily and James, the damn rat betrayed our friends. If I had been their Secret Keeper I would have died for them and my godsons.” Somehow despite being under the effects of the truth serum, Sirius snarled his answer, looking very angry though his eyes were glazed over and he said it all in a monotone voice.

“Did you attack Heir Peter Pettigrew?”

“Yes. With a stunning curse. I was about to freeze him and bring him to the Auror office before it happened.”

“Before what happened?”

“He started sobbing about Lily and James death, then pulled out his wand and shouted ‘Sirius Black killed Lily and James Potter!’ before blasting everything around us with some spell. He cut off his finger and then turned into his animagus which is a common brown rat and fled down the sewers with the other rats.” 

Amelia was shocked by this news. The Ministry records didn’t show he was an animagus. It also seemed that Sirius was more than willing to answer her questions since he was providing her more information than someone normally did under the effects of the truth serum. “Heir Pettigrew is an unregistered animagus?”

“Yes.”

“Why were you found laughing hysterically at the scene of the crime where twelve muggles were killed in the blast?”

“Because it was all hilarious. Not the death of those people, but the thought that the sniveling little boy who followed James, Remus, and I around school turned against us. That he betrayed everything the rest of us Marauders would have willingly died for. We should have seen it coming with how he was. His animagus is a bloody rat after all.”

“You had no hand in the murder of the muggles?”

“No, they died in the blast Pettigrew caused.”

Amelia nodded, done with her questioning. “Healer Blackwell please administer the antidote.” Amelia ordered finding his answers to be enough proof of his innocents. She felt sick to her stomach. Ten years… Ten years he had been rotting away in this prison. An innocent man. How many other people were convicted but actually innocent? Healer Blackwell did as ordered and once Sirius was given the antidote he collapsed slightly in his chair. 

“I would like it to be on the record that not only was Lord Black under an Imperius Curse at the time just after Lord James and Lily Potter were murdered until the time he was found at the crime scene, he was also under other spells and compulsions and binding that are still on his being that come from his first year at Hogwarts and beyond.” Healer Blackwell stated, handing over the piece of parchment that had shown when he did his tests on Sirius.

“Where is my son and my godsons?” Sirius asked immediately once he was able to talk and fully look at those in front of him.

“Your son? You never had a son, Black.” Lucius sneered.

“Marlene McKinnon, Remus Lupin, and I are bonded. She was pregnant with our first child when I was wrongly imprisoned. Where is my husband, wife, child, and godchildren?” Sirius growled, glaring back at him.

Amelia looked between the two in shock. “No one informed you about Marlene’s death, did they? She was killed by Death Eaters two days after Lily and James were murdered. Not pregnant and no baby found near her.”

Sirius looked absolutely gutted as he stared at them before shaking his head in disbelief. “No. She’s not dead. She can’t be dead!”

“I’m sorry Sirius but she is. I saw her body myself. I don’t remember her being pregnant though and we were close.” Liliana Abbott spoke up, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. If Marlene had been pregnant, she would have known about it. They were best friends who told each other everything, even though Liliana didn’t agree with her joining the Order of the Phoenix. “As for Remus, no one has heard or seen of him since the news of Lily and James death came out.”

“Your godson, Heir Hadrian, is also in the wind. Dumbledore became his magical guardian and left him with the Dursleys. The reason why we are having your trial in Azkaban is because the person who took him out of the care of the Dursleys, and who Lady Magic gave guardianship over, sent me Lily and James Will and Testimony as well as memories from the night of you being hit with the Imperius curse by someone unknown. However, we are still in the middle of the trial. The Fraction Leaders of the Wizengamot shall now deliberate what happens next.” Amelia reminded everyone seeing how far off track they had gotten. With a flick of her wand, a privacy shield formed around the Wizengamot members. 

Not even ten minutes later one of them took down the privacy shield “What say you Esteem Wizengamot Lords and Lady on Count One: First Degree murder of a Wizard?” Amelia asked them. 

“Lord Black is not guilty.” Tiberius Ogden told her. It had been decided that he as the leader of the Neutral Fraction would be the one to give the verdict.

“Count Two: Twelve counts of First Degree murder of muggles?”

“Not guilty.” 

“Count Three: Breach of the Statue of Secrecy?”

“Not guilty.”

“And Count Four: Treason?”

“Not guilty. Reparations for Lord Black due to his false conviction will be discussed with the rest of the Wizengamot in the next meeting.” Ogden finished, offering Lord Black a small sad smile.

“Lord Sirius Black, you have been found not guilty in a court of law and are henceforth allowed to leave Azkaban as a free man. May Lady Magic smile upon you for the rest of your days.” Amelia told him before concluding the trial. She pressed her wand to the orb to stop the recording and grabbed the quill to stop it from writing down everything.

For the first time in ten years, Sirius Black broke down and cried out to the heavens. He never thought he would never be a free man again.


End file.
